


Mommy Doesn't Like Daddy's New Boyfriend

by ResidentHothead



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Because Carl is Carl, But also Bad Brother Merle Dixon, Carl is 12/13, Cuz Daryl hates himself, Depression, Glenn is my favorite chopstick, Good Brother Merle Dixon, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, I Love You is hard to say, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Injured Character, Internalized Homophobia, Judith is 6, Like it'll take a while to get in a normal place in the relationship, Lori is a dick, M/M, Merle is trying guys, Motorcycle Accidents, Past Child Abuse, Racial slurs, Rickyl, Scars, Self-Harm, Shane and Rick sorta made up, Shane is a dick, Teen Angst, kinda slow burn, self destructive behavior, that's fucked up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-17 20:43:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13666929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ResidentHothead/pseuds/ResidentHothead
Summary: After Rick, Lori and Shane finally settle their differences and co-parent Judith and Carl the best they can with the divorce, a new man enters the picture and turns their finally peaceful lives upside down.And on top of that, he's a Dixon.But the kids like him. Lori and Shane do not. And Rick is madly in love with this selfless, shy man who would do anything for him and his children.But how can Daryl admit his feelings to Rick with an overbearing, homophobic brother and the fear of everything falling apart once he does? And how does he know if he's in love with Rick, anyway? He doesn't know what love feels like. He doesn't even love himself. He loves Merle, but that's completely different. And less... creepy.





	1. Lost in the Woods

**Author's Note:**

> I needed some Rickyl in my life oops

"Wanna fight ghosts." Daryl mumbled, staring up at the tent's ceiling, the only thing between him and the cold ground was the thin sheet of tent floor. But he didn't mind. Carl and Judith and Sophia needed the blankets more than he did. See, they were kids he found lost in the woods. Apparently they'd been camping and wandered away from their campsite because little Carl wanted to go adventuring. But well, that was three days ago. The kids were tired, filthy and hungry when they stumbled across Daryl's camp.  
"Ghosts?" The 6 year old Judith asked, sitting up from between Sophia and Carl.  
"Mhm." Daryl confirmed with a nod, arms up above him, making punching motions. "I'd sock 'em, or, try ta. But my hands would go right through 'em. So I'd get a special pair of gloves." He mimicked pulling on gloved and pressed the back of his hands together out in front of him. "And I'd plunge my fingers into the fuckers chest and riiiiiiip 'im apart." He exaggerated, slowly separating his hands. "But then, since he's already dead, he wouldn't die. Hell, he'd turn into two ghosts. And ain't no fuckin' way I'm fightin' two ghosts. So I'd puuuuuuush him back together back into one ghost." He pushed his hands back together, causing the three children to giggle.  
  
"What if he's a nice ghost?" Sophia asked, her quiet voice cutting through the sounds of nature that surrounded them. "Fucker's in for quite a damn surprise then." Daryl snorted. "Do ghosts even exist?" Carl asked. This kid screamed leader, like he wanted to grow up too quickly. It made Daryl kind of sad to see the kid wishing he could be more grown up instead of basking in childhood, but whatever makes him happy. "'Course they do. Floatin' bout just about everywhere. Maybe even here. But they can't hurt'cha. Only poltergeists. But y'all gotta go somewhere haunted for that. Like an abandoned hospital er some shit." He explained, waving his hands around while they talked. "But don't worry bout them, neither. Cuz they don't actively seek out people ta hurt 'em. Only if yer dumb enough to go into the place they made a home an' start fuckin' buggin' 'em."  
  
"Like bees?" Judith asked.  
"Like bees." Daryl confirmed, understanding the girl's need for a comparison to help her understand. "Don't go lookin' fer trouble. You won't find it, it'll find you. And then you'll be regrettin' all sorts'a shit." He scoffed out a laugh. "Don't go playin' with no Oujia boards or joinin' cults or none'a that shit. Seems interestin' an' shit, like who the fuck ain't interested in magic an' powers an' all that cool shit?" "How did this turn into a lecture?" Carl asked, and Daryl chuckled softly. "Y'all seem like good kids."  
"You're so much cooler than my dad or uncle Shane." Carl complimented, and Daryl just scoffed.  
"Yeah, my momma doesn't usually like it when people swear around me." Sophia agreed. "Carl and Judy's momma and daddy don't like it either."  
"Tough shit, huh?"  
"It is tough shit." Carl grinned.  
"Didn't learn that from me." Daryl muttered.  
  
"How come we haven't seen you around before? Like, in town or nothing?" Sophia pried, sitting up next to Judith now.  
"Prolly have. Jus' didn't notice. Me an' Merle go out sometimes, t'the store when we's got money."  
"Merle?!" Now it was Carl's turn to sit up. "As in Dixon?" Sophia and Judith both let out over dramatic gasps, all three pairs of eyes boring into the man laying in front of them.  
"....Ain't a problem, is it?" Daryl asked hesitantly, suddenly afraid he'd be rejected by a bunch of children.  
"I heard he had a brother, but I never heard much about him. My dad and Shane said they've only arrested Merle."  
"Figures you belong to a fuckin' cop." He scoffed. "Don't fancy breakin' the law like Merle. Don' even like doin' much outside these woods. An' b'fore ya ask, no, I've never killed anyone."

"Why do you like to be alone in the woods?" Sophia asked, laying back down.  
"'s quiet. No yellin' or drugs or people. 'm in charge out here. Feel safer out here than in my own home."  
"You don't feel safe in your own home?" Carl frowned, it was clear in his voice.  
"Nah. Merle pisses a lotta people off. God only knows when he says the wrong thing to the wrong person an' there's a bullet in both our heads whiles we sleep."  
"That's scary." Judith poked him.  
"Mhm." Daryl motioned for her and Carl to lay back down, and they did so without protest.  
"I miss mommy." Judith complained with a soft whine, curling up to her brother, who put an arm around his little sister comfortingly.  
"We'll see her and dad again soon." He soothed.  
"Head out inna mornin'." Daryl mumbled sleepily. "Wake me if any'a ya have ta piss. Otherwise stay in the tent until 'm up. Don't wanna have'ta track ya all day. That's time spent that could be used takin y'all back to yer mommas."  
"Yes Mr. Daryl." Sophia smiled, and soon all three kids and Daryl were asleep.

* * *

 

Daryl was up at first light, creeping out of the tent, careful not to wake the kids just yet. No, he needed some time to himself. The kids were great, they really were. Socializing with anyone other than Merle was just overwhelming, is all. Even with small children. But he got breakfast ready. All he had were a few cereal bars and a flask of water, but that would do. He wouldn't be with these kids too long, so their parents can feed them a decent meal once they're reunited. He wasn't no damn babysitter. Just had been fortunate enough to be out here when he was, in the spot that he was. The little one couldn't've gone much further without food, and the two older ones weren't looking too great either. So he'd fed them some of his deer he caught, because apparently these prissy suburban children were too good for squirrel. But that was expected, everyone always thought eating squirrles was fucking weird, apart from the Dixons. But that's why they were filthy rednecks, he supposed. He just hoped Judith and Carl's parents won't react too badly to him being a Dixon. There was no telling what they'd think. He hadn't hurt any of them, he wasn't like that. He liked kids, but not like _that_. He wasn't a fucking monster. Hell, he didn't even like _anyone_ like that, let alone some tots who just wondered into his camp.

Speaking of tots, Judith poked her head out of the tent, her blonde curly locks currently messy and tangled from her days out in the woods, and the bed head wasn't doing her any favors.  
"Good morning Mr. Daryl!" She greeted cheerfully, crawling out of the tent and sat by him on the ground. Daryl fixed the skirt of her dress so it covered more, feeling protective of the little girl. He had been since last night when he first met them.   
"Mornin’." He greeted after a minute, realizing that she needed a response. "Jus’ got some apple bars fer breakfast. Hope they’re ok." He opened one for the girl and passed it over. Judith smiled brightly up at him before beginning to eat happily. She was only six, so he didn’t expect a thank you. Sophia and Carl soon joined them, eating their own cereal bars and passing the flask of water around amongst themselves, talking about what they were going to do when they got back home. Judith was going straight to bed, Sophia was getting in the shower, and Carl was going to call his friends and tell them all about how he got lost in the woods over the weekend and why he wasn’t at school today. And Daryl just listened. He did enough talking last night, but that’s when his mind usually drifted off and he began to ramble. Though it was only ever to Merle, who would chuckle and snicker at his little brother’s weird thoughts that he never got to hear during the day.

  
"Alright, lets get a move on. Long walk back to the camp ground." Daryl finished packing up his tent and stuffed it into his backpack, pulling it on over his shoulders. Judith took Daryl’s hand in hers and smiled up at him when he flinched at the sudden contact. She didn’t understand why he was so jumpy, maybe thought she scared him. But the smile reassured him, he wasn’t scared of no little girl, and held her hand in return. Walking with Judith at his side and Carl and Sophia trailing behind him, they made their way to the camp ground. When asked how he knows where it is, Daryl just gave a simple, one shouldered shrug and continued walking. At one point he ended up carrying both Judith and Sophia, Carl trudging along tiredly behind Daryl. He was tired too, but he had the strength to lug two little girls a few miles through the woods with a whiny little boy behind him. And when Carl got too annoying, he ended up on Daryl’s back, wearing Daryl’s backpack and crossbow. But it was unloaded. He wouldn’t let a child who had no experience with weapons even hold it with bolts in it.   
  
It was by this time when he reached the camp ground. There were people everywhere, and Daryl froze when he heard a woman’s voice say "oh my god". He hoped that it was a good oh my god, but it was hard to tell with how shocked the woman was.  
"Sophia!" She cried out, rushing over to where Daryl had all three kids.  
"Mommy!" Sophia called back, and Daryl set her down to run to her mother for a tearful reunion.   
"Lori they’re back!" And now all eyes were on him, clearly it’d been a search party that was organized, but it seems they could all go home now. A skinny woman with dark hair ran up to the short haired woman who was Sophia’s mother.   
"Carl! Judith!" She called out, and Daryl set down Judith and helped Carl down and took his things back so both kids could run to their mother as well. The moms hugged their kids so tight, like they’d never ever let go again.  
"Momma, that’s Daryl!" Sophia introduced him. He looked like a deer caught in headlights and quickly hid behind his shaggy bangs, refusing to make eye contact with anyone.  
"We found his camp last night!" Carl explained excitedly, now both women’s eyes were on Daryl. "Cooked us up some deer he hunted _himself_ and let us sleep in his tent! He’s so cool mom, he’s got a crossbow and everything!"  
"And he can fight Ghosts maybe!" Judith squeaked.  
"Yeah, he says they’re real!" Sophia joined in on the excitement now. "But they don’t hurt you, only poltergiests can do that. And Mr. Daryl said that they don’t go looking to hurt people, only if you go in their homes and bug ‘em."  
"Like bees!"  
  
Now Daryl looked sheepish as the mothers stared at him, stunned. And he knew what they were probably thinking. Who the fuck is this weirdo? He was dirty and probably didn’t smell too great and probably looked like some crazy fucking hermit.  
"You had our kids?" A tall officer with dark curls approached Daryl, causing him to step back cautiously.  
"Jus’ found ‘em." He muttered quietly. This guy seemed standoffish, like he wanted a fight. Officer Walsh is what his badge said. "Brought ‘em back first light."  
"He didn’t hurt you, did he?" Lori asked, checking Carl for any injuries.  
"What? No, mom!" Carl yanked away from his mother. "Didn’t touch us accept to hold Judy’s hand on the way here. And she grabbed his hand first." But the man wouldn’t back down, eyes glaring down at the shorter man that is Daryl.  
"Wait, he’s a fucking _Dixon_!" Walsh announced, which caused everyone to back away.  
"Yeah, so fuckin’ _what_?" Daryl challenged, still talking out the left side of his face, refusing to look up at the other man.  
"Leave him alone, Shane!" Carl hissed.  
"Yeah, he’s good people!" Judith defended.   
"He’s nice.." Sophia was less passionate, but only because she was a quiet girl.  
"Shane, calm down." It was Sophia’s mum who calmed. "He rescued the kids." Carl walked over to Daryl and smiled, handing him a piece of paper. "Can I have your phone number, incase any of us get lost again?" Daryl scribbled down his number messily on the sheet of paper, and handed it back to Carl.   
"Don’ get lost ‘gain."  
"We’ll try not to." And that was it. After the kids hugged Daryl goodbye, they departed.


	2. Too Much Pressure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merle isn't too happy about his little brother saving children in the woods, and Rick hires a repairman who his kids find familiar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is your Rick!

"An’ what the fuck is _this_?" Merle slapped today’s paper down on the table in front of Daryl, who was barely awake until now. Startled, Daryl stopped falling asleep in his apple cinnimon cereal and stared up at Merle with wide eyes. This only accomplished pissing Merle off, however, and he grabbed his younger brother by the back of the neck and pushed his head forwards to look at the headline. Local Man Saves Children Lost in the Woods.  
"So?" Daryl jerked away from his aggressive older brother, rubbing his eyes tiredly.  
"Names y’all an’ everything!" Merle hissed venomously at the younger of the two.  
"Jus’ stumbled across ‘em. Took ‘em back to their mommas. Ain’t no big deal." He brushed it off, getting up to go find his pants. As much as he wanted to lounge around in a pair of briefs and a tank top all day, he had work. And Merle making fun of his lack of downstairs was obnoxious enough to make him want to cover up, or at least start buying boxer shorts.  
"So you’s some kinda local hero, now?" Merle wouldn’t let up, stalking after Daryl to their shared bedroom.  
"Ain’t nothin’." Daryl muttered back, pulling a pair of jeans from the floor and slipped them on. Merle was so overbearing and annoying, and he never shut the fuck up. That was the Merle Daryl somehow loved.  
"Y’all can’t be drawin’ attention like this!" He knew when he needed to turn around though, give Daryl his privacy when he stripped off his shirt for a fresh one. He didn’t know why his little brother was so self conscious about his torso, but he stopped asking after a while.  
  
"Ain’t doin’ nut’in, Mer." Daryl sighed, pulling on his work boots after getting in a fresh tank top and worn flannel that still had the sleeves in tact. "Jus’ goin’a work. An’ keep off ‘em drugs." He warned, flicking Merle in the forehead as he passed, out the door before his brother got the chance to retaliate and punch him. Or realize he stole the keys to his triumph. The motorcycle roaring to life and speeding off out of the dusty driveway was notification enough, and an angry text was soon to come through. But Daryl didn’t care, this motorcycle was fuckin’ dope. He wouldn’t take it to work though, he needed his truck for work. But a quick ride around the block, way over the fucking speed limit to wake him up was something he needed dearly. He soon made the switch off and returned the keys to Merle, and after a smack to the head, he was in his truck and off to work.

* * *

  
He and Glenn had very uneventful days, texting bullshit back and forth to each other.  
  
_Literally only old people are ordering pizzas today._  
  
_Well it is a tuesday afternoon glen_  
  
_motherfucker I have two Ns._  
  
_My contact for you says Glen._  
  
_Oh my god._  
  
_I’m on a call about 3pm. Some dude broke his fuckin sink._  
  
_Sounds fun. I just don’t want anymore grannies. Seriously, I wanna go home to Mags._  
  
_Cry me a river, Gle._

  
_StOp._  
  
Daryl grinned at Glenn’s response, just setting his phone down so he could gather the tools he thought he might need so he can head off on that call. Glenn was always good for a laugh though, even if Daryl did text him the most obnoxious things at the randomest times. Poor Glenn has spit soda out his nose on more than one occasion from random texts Daryl has sent. All of them while Maggie was present. How she’s still with him is a miracle.

* * *

  
So Daryl headed out to a normal looking neighborhood, but still thousands of dollars worth more than Daryl’s own place. It was white picket fence, flower garden, children at play kind of area where all the houses were light colored or brown. And he looked out of place, greasy hair, covered in a layer of dirt, worn clothing and a toolbox. Still, he knocked on the door of the correct house and waited, keeping his head down.  
"Oh, right on time!" The door swung open after a minute, a man with brown curls around the nape of his neck and blue eyes that matched Daryl’s had appeared. "Rick Grimes." He was too cheery for Daryl’s liking, and Daryl only gave him a grunt in response. "Oh... Well, the sink is this way." His smile never faltered, leading Daryl in through the house. The shy man kept his eyes down, not really wanting to look at the place. "Uh, I have the kids this week, so I hope you don’t mind being asked a billion questions once they get off the bus." Another grunt. But not an angry grunt. Just. A grunt. Like he didn’t know how else to respond. Rick scoffed a laugh and sat down at the kitchen table while Daryl began getting to work. "I’d fix it myself, but last time I did that, basement flooded. And my friend had to come fix it."  
"Didn’t like the indoor swimmin’ pool?" Daryl muttered out a sarcastic remark, which made Rick laugh out loud.  
"The kids did. My ex wife, not so much."  
"Someone call the fun police. Weee whoooo." Rick laughed again.  
"You’re sumthin’ else." Another grunt. Ok. He was done talking. Rick headed out of the room and Daryl got to work.  
  
The sound of Rick's kids getting home was happy. The little girl went on and on about kindergarten, and Daryl was happy to hear that the girl was having a good time in school. And the boy, sounded about the teenage years, just wanted something to eat.  
"That the repair guy?" The boy asked his father once they reached the kitchen. Daryl was under the sink currenly, looking around at shit. There seemed to be a pressure build up, but he couldn’t yet locate the source.  
"Yes," Rick confirmed, "you two _let him work_." He scolded before they even had the chance to do anything.  
"Yeah yeah, we will." The boy with his teenage response, seeming annoyed his father would even think he’d go around bothering the man reparing the sink. Obviously he had better things to do. "How’d it break, anyway?"  
"Don’t know, after the two of you left, it’s been broken all week. Homework, go." Rick ushered both children off into the living room, stopping over by Daryl. "Well, I have to go monitor homework and snacks." Grunt. "Great, let me know if you need anything?" _Grunt_. "Yeah, you probably won’t. Sorry." Grunt. Rick smiled and headed out.

The culprit happened to be an entire barbie doll wedged pretty good into the pipes. It’d take a lot of work to get out of there, and Daryl wasn’t sure he’d get it done tonight. Sure enough, 6pm rolled by and the sink was in pieces but that damned doll was stubborn. How the fuck did this damn thing get in here anyway? Daryl despised dolls now, because he was taking far too long to fix this and now feared this nice man’s demeanor would change towards him and not pay him well. That meant getting in trouble at work. Losing his job. Back to being useless. And whenever Pa returned home from whatever the fuck he was doing, he sure as fuck wouldn’t be happy to hear that Daryl had lost his job due to being a fucking idiot and not being able to unwedge a doll from the sink. He cringed when Rick entered, the kids not too far behind him.  
  
"How’s it lookin’?"  
"Uh.." Daryl was quiet, still hiding beneath the sink.  
" _Damn_. I needed that for dinner tonight." Daryl felt his stomach sink and his chest hurt. He felt like such a disappointment. Rick sighed, turning to his kids. "Well, get your coats on, we’ll just go out somewhere."  
"YAY!"  
" _Yes_!"  
Daryl slipped out from beneath the sink and stood up, eyes glued to the floor as he faced Rick.  
"’m sorry." He muttered out.  
"Hmm?" Rick turned to Daryl now, brow raised in confusion.  
"Meant’a... have this done. Don’ gotta pay me, I’ll take it outta m’check this week, have it finished inna mornin’." He tried to persuade, afraid of looking at Rick.  
"What?? Oh, god, no! I’m not angry!" Rick gushed, a frown on his face. Oh goodness, he felt so bad! He hadn’t meant to upset the other man. "It’s no problem, seriously! I’m still paying full price!" He tried to convince, astonished at how upset the shorter man in front of him had become at something so simple, it damn near broke Rick’s heart.  
  
"Daryl??" At his name, Daryl’s head shot up to see the kids with their coats on were in fact, Carl and Judith.  
"Daryl!" Judith dashed forwards and attached herself to the man’s leg, startling him with a violent flinch.  
"Dad, you hired Daryl?!" Carl was now excited, smiling big. And dear lord Rick was lost.  
"You know my kids?" He asked after a moment, turning to Daryl.  
"Uh.." There it was again, that tone of uncertainty and the anxiety filling his chest to the point of no escape for any other words than a pathetic ‘uh’.  
"He’s the guy who got us out of the woods yesterday!" Judith squeaked as Carl detatched his little sister from the poor repair man’s leg. Rick’s eyes lit up, that too-friendly smile forming on his face.  
"That was _you_? Oh my god, I can’t tell you how grateful I am! I knew Lori and Shane shouldn’t’ve taken them camping there because the woods are too dense, but... those two can be dense.." Rick explained. "You’re a hero, Daryl."  
"Weren’t nothin’." Daryl mumbled, shifting uncomfortably at the praise.  
"No, really, I can’t ever thank you for this! Carl and Judith are my _world_ , I don’t know what I’d do without them!" He gushed, only worsening Daryl’s anxiety.  
"Maybe y’all should fuckin’ keep an eye on ‘em then!" He snapped, instantly regretting it once the words left his mouth. The room went silent, all eyes wide and on Daryl, who turned his back to the Grimes’ family. "Didn’t mean’a.." He tried to apologize.  
"Would you like to join us for dinner, Daryl?" Rick asked, and Daryl wasn’t sure if he heard that right.  
"What?"  
"Dinner. On me. C’mon." Daryl wanted to protest, but Judith and Carl were already pulling him out the door.  
"Can we go to the diner where Beth works?" Carl asked, causing Rick to grin.  
"I suppose we could."  
"Yay!" Judith cheered. "I miss Bethy!"  
"She’ll be babysitting this weekend, don’t worry." Rick reassured, all piling into Rick’s minivan.  
"Didn’t take ya fer a soccer mom." Daryl absentmindedly commented, sitting in the passenger seat.  
"Oh _please_ ," Rick scoffed a laugh. "Your pickup ain’t much better."  
"M’bike is."  
"Bike?"  
"Motorcycle. Fixin’ it up cuz the fuckin’ thing crashed into a tree."  
" _It_ crashed or _you_ crashed?" Grunt. "Ah." Rick laughed.

"You have a _motorcycle_?" Carl gushed, leaning forwards in his seat. "Dad he’s got a motorcycle _and_ a crossbow!"  
"A crossbow?" Rick glanced over. Grunt. "You are _something_ , Daryl."  
"Which one’a y’all got the doll lodged in the sink?" Daryl couldn’t help but ask.  
"Oops." Came Judith’s voice.  
Rick busted out laughing, eyeing his daughter from the rear view mirror. "This wasn’t the same doll you wanted to give a bath, was it?" And the look on Judith’s face told Rick everything he needed to know. "Right, ok. These kids can be such a handful. You got kids, Daryl?"  
"Nah." Daryl scoffed. "I run inna yer kids enough, don’ need any’a my own. Can’t raise no kids livin’ with m’brother, anyhow."  
"How’s he doing?" Rick seemed to have known who Daryl’s brother is, and apparently didn’t mind asking about the older Dixon. Probably for his cop stuff.  
"Fine. Sober, I think. Got a job at a garage."  
"That’s great, Daryl. I hope you can help keep him out of trouble."  
"Tryin’." Daryl grunted, getting out as soon as they parked and looked around. He knew this place. Glenn’s girlfriend worked here. Maggie. He remembered her. And he wasn’t too fond of how she always picked on him. So he hoped she wouldn’t be here.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gonna try to make these chapters longer as they go on.


	3. Shattered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl has dinner with Judith, Carl and Rick at the café. But their meal gets interrupted when a few people in Merle's social circle show up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow what a shitty update. Wee. Next chapter will be longer, I promise!

"Hey, asshole!" Michonne greated Daryl as he walked through the door of the café. He only scoffed and waved her off, leading the Grimes family to the back where he liked to sit.   
"Who’s that?" Carl asked, pulling on Daryl’s flannel.  
"Jus’ Michonne. Known ‘er a while."  
"Since high school~" Maggie teased, setting out menus for them all.   
"Fuckin’ hell.." He muttered, hiding behind his menu quickly. Beth brought over a booster seat for Judith, giving Carl a friendly smile. She was at least 16 though, too old for the 13 year old Carl. Rick placed the seat down on the booth next to him and buckled the girl in so she could actually reach the table, chatting up Maggie and Beth for a moment.  
"So how do you know Daryl?" Beth asked, poking the man who was hiding behind his menu.  
"Didn’t you see the paper this morning?" Maggie pushed her sister gently. "He saved Carl, Judy and Sophia."  
"That was _Daryl_?"  
"Jus’ found ‘em. ‘s all." Daryl grumbled. "Ain’t no big deal."  
"Of _course_ it--"  
_"Bye."_ Daryl dismissed. Both girls took off, giggling.  
"You’re friendly." Grunt. "Judy, what do you want?"  
"Chicken nuggets!"  
"I should’ve guessed that."  
"I want a cheeseburger and chocolate milk." Carl decided.  
"Me too!" Judy squeaked. "Chocolate milk!"  
"Cheeseburgers look good, actually." Rick agreed. "I’ll just have a pepsi."  
"Pussy.."  
"What??"  
"Pepsi. ‘s good." Daryl muttered, but Rick knew damn well that’s not what he had said.

  
Daryl spent the next few minutes talking to Michonne through pure facial expression.  
  
_Boyfriend?  
  
Fuck no.  
  
Then who?  
  
Just a dude.  
  
Aren’t you interesting?  
  
Go fuck yourself.  
  
At least I can get someone to fuck me._  
  
And that’s when Daryl hid his face back behind the menu.  
"Are you ok, Daryl?" Rick asked, turning from his very entertaining conversation with Carl about how he’s going to get a job here in the next few years.  
"Yeah. ‘Chonne’s jus’ givin’ me looks."  
"She’s pretty."  
_"Ew."_ And Rick busted out laughing. That reaction was the same Carl would give at ten when they always teased him about Sophia.   
"What, does she have cooties?" He teased. But Daryl looked him dead in the eyes, completely serious.  
_"Yes."_   
"Oh my." Rick covered his mouth, a smile on his features from ear to ear.  
"Y’all ready to order?" It was Beth who came over to take their order, most likely been sent over by Maggie just to torture her. She liked Carl, but as his babysitter. "The usual for Daryl, I presume?" She gave him a shy smile, one that Carl wasn’t too fond of. And Daryl seemed to not notice at all.  
"Sumthin’ cheaper, uh.."  
"His usual is good." Rick interferred, causing Daryl to stare at him in surprise. "Usual for Judy too, and Carl and I will have cheeseburgers. Pepsi and Chocolate milk." Beth scribbled down their orders and headed off with a wink that Daryl completely missed.   
"Didn’t haf’ta--"  
"I don’t mind paying, Daryl. Seriously." Though it was weird, because money had become such a precious thing in Daryl’s world. How he’d need to hide his paycheck or keep it on him at all times, otherwise it’d disappear and somehow more beer and drugs would end up in the house. He wasn’t even sure which of the assholes he was stuck with were stealing it at this point. At first he thought it was just Merle, but Pa seemed to end up with more beer he knew damn well he couldn’t afford on his own. So maybe they were both pact together behind his back to steal his fucking paycheck and then both bitch at him when he ended up broke with no way to put food on the damn table besides hunting because they both just expected him to pull more cash out his asshole each time they ‘borrowed’ what he had.  
  
"She’s too young for you." Carl’s venomous voice had snapped Daryl out of his thoughts.  
"What?" He asked, not sure if he heard that quite right. Michonne was older than him, so that couldn’t be who he had been referring to.  
"Beth. You’re way too old for her."  
"Ain’t fuckin’ datin’ _Beth_." He hissed out defensively, causing Judith to giggle. "She’s a lil’ fuckin’ girl. Ain’t like that." He grumbled. He’d go back to hiding, but the ‘lil’ girl’ in question had already taken their menus back.  
"Relax, Daryl. Carl’s just jealous about the eyes she was giving you." Rick elbowed Carl gently, who just huffed.  
"Eyes?"  
"You didn’t notice??" And Daryl shook his head, confused. Rick only chuckled, that damned smile never leaving his lips. It made Daryl want to punch it away. Why? Dixons always solve their problems with violence. Same goes for emotions. Simple as that.

  
He was so defensive, Rick had come to notice in the past few hours he’d known Daryl. Like people were constantly throwing accusations at him that he felt the need to fend off with such angry responses. And the urge to give this angry man a hug only grew stronger. But he had a feeling he’d have a few less teeth if he even attempted. When their food arrived, Rick couldn’t help but grin when Daryl’s food was brought out in a plastic bowl, a plastic cup to match. Like they gave Judith. Maybe he wasn’t the only one who picked up these anger issues Daryl had, because the non-breakable dishes he had seemed rather fitting. Macaroni and cheese, and a grilled cheese sandwich, cut in fours, no crust, and a brownie on the side. He had a chocolate milkshake with M &Ms sprinkled over the top of the whipped cream and around the cherry. Suddenly, Rick felt as if he just bought one of Carl’s friends a meal. Judith and Carl were wide eyed at Daryl’s choice of food.  
"Woah! I didn’t see _that_ on the menu!" Carl voiced his awe, causing Daryl to sink into himself.  
"Not the specific meal. Just Daryl’s order~" Maggie ruffled the man’s hair despite the panicked flinch he gave at her approaching hand. She’d only ignored it. Everyone did. It was like an unspoken rule amongst his friend group. Don’t touch Daryl too much, and don’t draw attention to his reactions or else you’ll get punched in the face like poor Glenn had a few years back. Then again, you risk a punch in the face every time you touch Daryl, man or woman. Only kids seemed to get away without a scratch. And that’s because Daryl didn’t believe in smacking kids around, despite how he’d been brought up.

  
Daryl sat hunched over his food, looking possessive as he ate hungrily, as if he didn’t gaurd it, it’d be taken from him. It made Rick sad, but also amused at how little table manners Daryl had. Anything dropped in his lap would be picked up with his fingers and stuffed in his mouth. He’d lick those fingers clean, wipe his hands on his pants and his mouth on his sleeve, even picking up macaroni noodles with his hands. It was something that just said ‘Daryl’ to Rick. His kids gave him startled looks at how the other man ate, the six year old even using her napkin. But Rick only smiled at them, which meant don’t stare, let him be, and the kids seemed to pick up what Rick was putting down.  
  
Halfway through their meal, the bell to the café’s door jingled and people only looked up when the gentlemen who entered lingered in the doorway. Daryl lifted his head to see that it was some of Blake’s boys. People Merle antagonized and also dealt drugs with. And they were staring directly at him. Jesus Christ, what had Merle done now. He tried to just stay put, but the moment Ceaser’s eyes lingered to Carl and Judith, Daryl stood up quickly.  
"Daryl?" Rick asked, looking up at the man wearily.  
"I, uh, Gotta go." He muttered, not taking his eyes off the men at the door. Rick glanced back and frowned, turning to Daryl again.   
"Daryl, I’m a cop. I can help." But Daryl only shook his head.   
"’s nothin’. I’ll see ya later." And with that, he exited the café with the two men.

  
 

* * *

  
   
Fire. His ribs were on _fire_. It’d been 14 hours since he’d left the cafe he’d been at with Rick and the kids. He was currently wheezing, having been stripped naked for humiliation and had been going through beatings in between moments of consciousness while Phillip’s men tried to get Merle’s whereabouts out of Daryl. But he had no fucking idea, Merle never told him shit.   
"Dunno.." Daryl muttered out, curled up on the cold, comcrete floor of Phillip’s warehouse. Another kick caused Daryl to flinch, coughing hard. Ouch. And of course, his wheezing only got worse. Bruised ribs were not fun. And jesus, he was sure he was late for work now. Another docked pay wasn’t going to sit well with Pa and Merle. He stayed as curled up as possible, trying not to give these men any weak points to hit. Though with the way he was feeling, everywhere was a weak point.  
  
"Daryl, I’m not going to ask you again." Phillip crouched down in front of him.  
"Don’t _fuckin_ know." He hissed, hiding his face with his greasy locks of hair. Fuck, Daryl just wanted to go home and die. Or sleep. Either or. Another kick to the head sent Daryl out of consciousness again, into just darkness. When he awoke, he was clothed again, laying in his own front yard. He was fucking sweating, dear god this Georgia heat. Just because summer was ‘over’ due to school starting did not mean the weather would just let up. Dear lord, know. His throat was as dry as the dirt beneath him, and he was sure he would be a little tanner than when he’d last drifted out of consciousness. His entire body ached, fuck, it had to be about 3pm now. Daryl struggled to his feet and stumbled up to the door and forced his way in. Not like it was locked. It was a fucking shitshow. The place had been ransacked, messed up, and searched. Most likely for Merle or for any money they had hidden around. Well, it looks like they came up empty on both accounts. But hell, Daryl didn’t even have time to tidy up before Pa got home, whenever the fuck that would be, because he needed to get to work. Hell, he was beyond late. But it’s not like he could explain why. Or the injuries. No, he just gulped down a gallon of dirty sink water to help soothe his burning throat a bit before changing into some clean _er_ clothing. Another flannel, this time with the sleeves cut off, loose jeans, and his workboots. Every movement was torture, but Daryl was able to get to work. He had to walk, seeing as he left his truck at Rick’s and Merle had taken his bike, fleeing from stupid Phillip.  
  
He avoided his shit boss at all costs when he arrived, ignored the texts from Glenn, and clocked in. Then he headed to Rick’s straight away. Another painful walk. He had to finish up the work on the sink. He owed it to him, especially since he left in such an abrupt and shady manner last night. Finally arriving, he knocked on the door and it was Carl who answered.  
"Daryl?? What happened?"  
"Shaving accident." Was the best he could come up with. _Damnit_.   
"Dad’s uh, in the shower."  
"Jus’ came’ta fix up the sink."  
"I think you need to sit down.." Daryl hadn’t even considered looking in the mirror to check his appearance. But he could feel his eye throbbing and his lip stinging, so he knew it was definitely noticeable.   
"’m fine." Carl seemed to accept this, moving to let Daryl inside. He made a beeline for the kitchen and immediately started on the sink again, seeing as his tools had been left here. The water for the sink had already been shut off, so he didn’t need to worry about Rick’s shower interfering. He was so goddamned tired though, jesus christ. He felt the early stages of heat stroke, but he’d just work through it. The AC was on in the Grimes’ residence, so he’d be ok. Daryl was never one to take much care of himself anyway.   
  
He got the doll out and cleaned it off, setting it down on the counter to dry, and then began putting the sink back together.   
"Daryl." Rick greeted, sounding surprised. "You just kinda disappeared last night, are you ok?" Grunt. "Oh, well.. I don’t know what that means, Daryl." He sighed. Usually he’d accept the grunts during smalltalk, but this was too serious to just let a grunt answer. He needed to know that the other man was ok.  
"Mhm." Was barely audible, but it was an answer. Not the truth though, he learned when Carl entered the kitchen.  
"No, someone beat him up. He seems like he can barely stand."  
"Shush, kid." Daryl growled out, and Rick kneeled down to where Daryl was crouched, trying to get a peek at his face. He slowly moved to push Daryl’s hair aside, and despite the flinch, he did so. A split lip and a black eye. Rick gasped, carefully pulling Daryl away from the sink.   
"Gotta work!" Daryl protested angrily, but Rick’s grip tightened.   
" _No_. You’re hurt, I can put the sink back together. You just sit." He forced Daryl into a kitchen chair. Daryl, of course, was angry about it.   
"Ain’t’cher fuckin’ wife, Rick. Don’ need no fawnin’ over."  
"Did those men do this to you?"  
"I want a fuckin’ lawyer." He was so scared right now, and he hadn’t known why. He hated being questioned, because nothing good ever came out of telling the truth. Not even to the school councellor that one time. No, Miss Apple was a fucking loony bitch..   
  
"Daryl, I just wanna help.."  
"Don’ need it. Gotta get goin’ anyway.." He huffed, getting up. And unfortunately, Rick couldn’t stop him. Because then he’d have to bring himself in for holding Daryl hostage against his will. If the man didn’t want help, there was nothing Rick could do. Only Daryl’s word would help, even if he wanted to find these guys on his own. He’d have nothing, because he couldn’t prove those men had beat up Daryl. So he paid him for his work in full and Daryl was out the door.

  
Before entering his work building, Daryl checked his messages. Michonne, Glenn and Maggie, all worried. He left them all on **seen** and made his way into the building. T-Dog was giving him an apologetic look when he entered, and that immediately set off a red flag. Usually T-Dog would tease him about ‘getting into another fight’, but this look was something he wasn’t used to.  
"What?"  
"Boss wants to see ya.." T-Dog sighed, motioning to the boss’s office. Well fuck me sideways, Daryl thought as he slowly approached the office.   
_"Daryl!"_ Jesus fucking christ he was beginning to hate his own name all over again. People would not stop saying it. A simple ‘hello’ would fucking work. "Did you enjoy sleeping in this morning?" Negan teased, sitting up on his desk when Daryl had entered.  
"Jus’ got busy."  
"Just got _fired_." Negan grinned.   
_"What?!"_ Daryl exclaimed. No. No no no no no. _No._ This was _not_ happening.  
" _Yes!_ Because you had the audacity to come in late! So--" Negan let out a low whistle. _"Fired."_ And Daryl just wanted to fucking punch him. Fuck it, he did! "Oh no, that shit is _not_ ok!" Negan had hollared for Simon and Dwight to haul Daryl off and out of the building, threatening to call the cops if Daryl didn’t get the fuck outta there. So, this day couldn’t possibly get worse. 

Driving home in a rage, Daryl aggressively cleaned the house before flopping into his bed to fall asleep for a million years. There was no fucking way he was ever getting up again. His entire life just shattered before him for the billionth fucking time, and he was so goddamn sick of it. He just needed to sleep. Sleep forever. And hopefully Pa and Merle had finally realized that he was no good and decided to just fucking move out and leave him here to rot in this fucking shit shack for the rest of his pathetic and miserable life. But of course, neither of the older men really had the sense or desire to do that. Not when their favorite maid and punching bag worked for them for free.

 


	4. Date?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carl gives Daryl a call and Sophia asks something of Daryl that he cannot refuse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey this story is actually going somewhere now.

Weeks had passed by, and Daryl was faking having a job to everyone. He felt so goddamn pathetic for getting fired. So whenever anyone asked him about work, he'd give his usual _grunt_ and let them continue talking his ear off. No one suspected a damn thing. This is why Daryl was glad he kept to himself. He had been putting out applications literally everywhere, but no one wanted to hire a Dixon.

  
His really stupid and hard to read book was thankfully interupted by his phone ringing, displaying a number he hadn't been familiar with. Oh god. How to phone.. He picked up and just... grunted. It never failed him. Except that one time with Rick, but that was only because the man was a parent and probably used to that bullshit.   
  
"I hate my dad!" Carl’s voice came on the other line.  
"Hey kid." Daryl’s nerves were instantly calmed. He didn’t feel uncomfortable talking to kids, since they were too young to know any better to sneer at him yet.   
"I mean it, Daryl!" Carl snapped, causing Daryl’s eyes to widen. _Sorry_.   
"What’d ‘e do?" Daryl tossed his book across the shitty shack he loosely reffered to as home. Fucking good riddance, devil book.   
"Grounded me cuz I snuck out with Duane and Patrick. But I couldn’t tell him it’s cuz Patrick’s folks were fighting again and Patrick just needed someone to talk to, since Patrick can be a damn baby sometimes... But Duane didn’t get grounded, cuz he didn’t get _caught_." Carl ranted, and Daryl just rose a brow. This was new. "And ugh! He made sure mom and Shane knew I was grounded. I _told_ him I was doing something _important_ but he didn’t care! I couldn’t tell him because Patrick made me promise not to tell my parents or Shane. But technically you’re not any of those, so I can tell you."  
"You sound like yer gonna have’a fuckin’ stroke." Daryl mused, sitting up on the couch.   
"I’m running away."  
"Are ya?"  
"...You’re not gonna tell me it’s a big mistake?"  
"Nope." And Carl was silent for a moment.  
"Well... good! Because I won’t regret it!"  
"A warm bed is overrated."  
"It’s still summer."  
"An air conditioned room is overrated." Daryl corrected himself.  
  
"It _is_."  
"Eating outta the garbage is more fun."  
"Well, I was thinking about hiding out in Sophia’s tree house."  
"Can’t."  
"And why not?!" Carl was understandably upset about this.  
"Harboring a fudgitive." Daryl explained with a grin on his face. This was fun. "You’ll both get inna trouble if anyone finds out she’s hidin’ ya. And I don’ know if y’all really wanna rope that lil’ girl inna this."  
"Well..." Carl huffed, thinking. "Could I come out into the woods with you? Woods is fair game."  
"Ya like squirrel?"  
_"No."_   
"Well that’s all that’s around right now. Unless y’all wanna eat dirt an’ berries."  
"Daryl, you’re making this impossible!"  
"Ain’t!" Daryl defended. "Y’all fuckin’ spoiled suburban bullshit’s makin’ this impossible! Can’ even fuckin’ run away right."  
"Well how _do_ you run away?" Carl was giving an attitude now, frustrated that Daryl wasn’t just telling him what he wanted to hear.  
"Y’all buy a bus ticket an’ make a fuckin’ run fer it. Change yer name, appearace, make sure y’all pay for everything in cash. Don’ tell no one where ya goin’, not even yer little friends. They’ll rat ya out. Yer too young’a get a job, so you’ll probably have’ta start dealin’ drugs. An’ if ya ain’t dead, you could make a livin’ til’ ‘bout 16 when you’re ready for an actual job."  
"That sounds horrible."  
"An’ yer family will be worried sick. Drama’s gonna do only god knows what to Judy, an’ the poor kid will become depressed b’fore she even knows what depressed is."  
  
"You took all the fun out of it."  
"Ain’t s’posed’a be fun." Daryl admitted. "It’s a pain inna ass, an’ should only be a last resort if someone’s hurtin’ ya. Not a fight wit’ yer pop."  
"Daryl?"  
"Hmm?"  
"Who hurt you?" The question hit him hard. Carl was smarter than he let on. Daryl had in fact tried to run away, a few times actually. He never took to dealing, because he could just hunt his own food. And eating out of garbage cans wasn’t so bad. Sometimes he found a better meal in there then he ever had at home. ...More than sometimes. After a long pause, Daryl shook his head to clear his thoughts.  
"Where are ya?"  
"The park."  
"Anyone know where ya are?"  
"Nope."  
"Stay put, ‘m comin’a get ya."  
"Ok. Thanks Daryl." Grunt. Carl laughed, hanging up. Snatching the keys to Merle’s bike since the asshole stole his fucking truck again, Daryl started up the triumph and sped off. He didn’t have Rick’s number, and he sure as fuck wasn’t going to call the station to try and get it and cause all that bullshit. Not when he knew where Rick lived and where Carl was. He made sure to actually grab the motorcycle helmet before he left, seeing as Carl needed it. He probably should wear one too, but fuck that. Death seemed like something inevitable, and who was he to stop that? Wow, that got dark.   
  
He parked his bike at the park and set off to find Carl. He wasn’t too hard to find, Daryl found him dangling his legs through the railing of the bridge that went above a large pond. Daryl sat next to him, just staring at the water. Carl hadn’t glanced up, but shifted closer to Daryl.  
"Think they’re gonna be mad?"  
"I mean, probably. Only cuz they care ‘bout’cha though."  
"Were your parents mad when you ran away?" Carl asked, pushing a leaf off into the water, watching it float it’s way down.  
"Nah." Daryl admitted quietly. "No one cared I left. Got laughed at when I finally came back, cuz I was tired an’ hungry an’ sick’a people beatin’ me up an’ shit."  
"People beat you up??"  
"Ain’t tea parties and tiaras out there, kid."  
"Who laughed at you?"  
"My Pa. Tol’ me I was a pussy an’ a bitch cuz I came back."   
Carl grimaced at his story, a frown on his face. "He sounds mean."  
"Ain’t gettin’ no Best Dad mug from me, tha’s fer sure." Daryl threw a stick into the water. They sat in a long, comfortable silence, Daryl fidgeting here and there, changing sitting positions every now and again until Carl was ready.  
"Can you take me home?"  
"Yeah, c’mon." Daryl got up and helped Carl to his feet. "They’s gonna yell. An’ you gotta let ‘em. Kay?"  
"I guess.." Carl sighed. He wasn’t looking forwards to this.  
"Only cuz they care."  
"Better than being laughed at..."  
"It will be, trust me. It’ll be screamin’ an’ huggin’ alternatin’ for a good few days."  
"Oh _god_." Carl laughed.   
  
They made their way through the park and Carl gasped when he saw the motorcycle sitting in the near empty parking lot. "No way!"  
"Nah, ‘m drivin’ the fuckin’ minivan." Daryl scoffed out, getting on the bike and holding out the helmet for the kid. It was a bit big, but it was better than nothing. Carl put the helmet on and got on behind Daryl, and Daryl just knew the kid was grinning. Starting up the bike, he backed out of his parking space and sped off towards Rick’s house. He wasn’t going to fucking Lori’s house, no, she was a bitch. And he didn’t even know where she lived. And he wanted to keep it that way. Stuck up skeletor bitch...

  
When they pulled up to Rick’s house, it was evident that no one was home. So they got off the bike and walked up to the porch, sitting and waiting. It wasn't long before Sophia came out to join them, having spotted Daryl when she looked out her window. She and Carol lived across the street from Rick, so she came over often. She was so happy to have Daryl back around, she hadn't seen him since the woods on that one trip they got lost on.   
  
"How’s yer mum?" Daryl asked her, allowing the girl to lay on his shoulder. She just kinda did it, but Daryl wasn’t pushing her away.  
"She’s doing good! She’s currently working as a nurse. Weird hours, but she makes a good amount." Sophia beamed, smiling at Carl, who smiled back. "She said to tell you hi."  
"Tell her I said hi back." Carl grinned.  
"Do _I_ get a ride on your motorcycle?" Sophia pulled at Daryl’s sleeveless flannel, causing the man to scoff a laugh.   
"Ain’t givin’ out no pony rides. But if yer momma says yes." He reluctantly agreed, but only with parental permission. He didn’t want to come off as creepy or nothing. He did enjoy the company though, kids were so easy to talk to. He never really stumbled over his words with them, it was so easy to be open with them.   
  
When Rick’s cruiser pulled up, Daryl felt Carl tense up.   
"’s ok." He reassurred with a pat to Carl’s knee. Rick and Shane bolted from the cruiser, both looking super relieved.  
"Carl! Oh my god, you’re ok!" Rick exclaimed, yanking Carl up into a big hug. "Don’t you ever do that again! You worried us all half to death!"  
"I know, I know!" Carl let out a sigh. "I’m sorry, Dad."  
Shane had his hands on his hips, eyeing Daryl skeptically. He motioned to him with a jerk of his head, and Carl pulled away from Rick to look down at him.   
"Oh, I uh-- called Daryl. I didn’t know what to do and I was angry... But he calmed me down." He shot Daryl a smile, who shyly returned it.  
"Wow, this is the second time you’ve rescued my child." Rick joked, giving Daryl a genuine smile as well.  
"Weren’t nothin’." He mumbled.   
"You didn’t have to bring Sophia, did you?"  
"Nah, she just came out t’sit." And Sophia nodded.   
"Hi Mr. Rick, hi Mr. Shane!"  
"Hey Sophie." Shane ruffled the girl’s hair, causing some giggles to escape her.   
  
"Thank you again, Daryl. I think I gotta buy ya dinner again~" Rick hugged Carl again.  
"Ain’t hungry." Daryl grunted out, causing Shane to scowl.  
"Why didn’ chu call one’a us, bud?" Shane asked, poking Carl on the head.  
"Because Daryl doesn’t yell at me or tell me I’m wrong. He just tells me... how it is. And he let me make the decision on my own. I was gonna run away, but he told me it’d be hard and I can’t tell any of my friends and I’d have to deal drugs and eat out of the garbage until I’m 16 and people will beat me up on the streets." He frowned.  
"That... is probably true." Rick gave Daryl a look, who only just shrugged.  
"I woulda let you hide out in my treehouse." Sophia said quietly, causing Shane to scoff a laugh.  
"I wanted to!" Carl exclaimed. "But Daryl said that’s ‘harboring a fudgitive’ and you’d get in trouble too."  
"Harboring a fudgitive?" Rick rose a brow.  
"And he said that Judy would get sad and it’d cause a lot of trouble with everyone." Carl sat back down by Daryl. "He just.. _gets it_. I can talk to him without getting in trouble."  
  
And that’s when the back door of the cruiser swung open and out hopped Judith. "I don’t like it in there no more!" She announced angrily. "I wanna say hi to Daryl!" Marching over, Judith aggressively grabbed Daryl’s arm to hug.   
"Hey kid." Daryl greeted quietly, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.  
"Why the hell are these kids so obsessed with him?" Shane hissed.   
"Cuz he’s _cool_ , Shane." Carl rolled his eyes.   
"I wanna get to dress shopping!" Judith snapped at both her father and Shane. "The Father-Daughter Dance is this weekend!" She shrieked, causing Daryl to flinch. Ow.   
"Oh yeah, that’s Saturday, ain’t it?" Sophia asked a little sadly.   
"Yeah, are you co-- oh." Judith frowned, remembering Sophia’s daddy was gone. "Maybe Daryl can take you!" She squeaked, and Daryl’s eyes widened. Oh. _Oh._ But Sophia gasped excitedly.   
"Would you?! Oh, Daryl, I’ve never been to one, and everyone is going!" Daryl fidgeted where he sat for a minute, hesitating. Oh god, how could he say no to that?  
"Uh, if yer momma’s ok with it." He finally muttered out, and Sophia squealed, hugging him tightly.   
"Oh thank you thank you thank you!" She exclaimed, and Daryl patted her on the arm a little awkwardly, tense at the hug. What had he just gotten himself into?  
  
It turns out, Sophia’s mum said yes. She talked about it with some mutual friends, and the ones that knew Daryl all claimed he was a great guy, just really shy and sometimes has trouble with other adults, but he’s wonderful with kids. And Carl, Judith and Sophia have really taken a liking to him. Carl was the one to text Daryl the news, and now Daryl could panic. Yay, he’s never been to any sort of dance, let alone something he had to act like a father figure for. And there were going to be a million other little girls there. But at least Rick would be there with Judith. A familiar face would be good. Now all he needed was something formal to wear. Which meant he needed to steal money from Merle and buy something, because the last formal attire he’d worn was to Momma’s funeral. And his thrift store tux from when he was six years old wasn’t going to fucking fit. Great.  
 

* * *

  
   
"Just come out!" Glenn coaxed. "It can’t be that bad!"  
"I feel like a fuckin’ tool." Daryl grumbled from inside the dressing room. He had enlisted the help of Maggie and Glenn to help him find something appropriate to wear to this event this Saturday.  
"C’mon, Dare-Bear!" Maggie teased, and Daryl finally stepped out in a full black tux with a black bowtie. Both friends looked over Daryl for a moment before Glenn shook his head.  
"Nah, he’s right. He looks like a fucking tool." And Maggie busted out laughing.   
"Glenn! He looks _cute_!"  
"But it just doesn’t scream ‘Daryl’. It kinda screams ‘get me the fuck outta here’."  
"This is like the third place we’ve been!" Maggie complained, leaning back on the bench she and Glenn both sat on. "And Sophia’s such a sweet little girl, she deserves a good night."  
"Maybe something more... Casual? Like business casual?" Glenn suggested. "Because this whole proper-formal thing is _not_ working. You look like you’re going to yank off that blazer and choke another dad with it."  
  
And with an eyeroll, Daryl disappeared back into the dressing room, shedding off the uncomfortable suit from hell and back into his beat up jeans and torn sleeved flannel. He stepped out of the dressing room once again and stomped out of the stupid formal store that he swore up and down he was never to enter ever again. A thrift store tux wouldn’t cut it, because Sophia had gotten an expensive dress. So it wouldn’t be fair. Ugh, damn kids.   
  
Four more stores, and Daryl was ready to give up. He just couldn’t find something he looked good in without feeling like a total idiot. And that was hard when you fucking hated yourself, but surely there was _something_? Probably not, that was Daryl’s reasoning. It was getting closer and closer to Saturday, and Daryl was panicking more and more each day.   
  
A drink with Michonne didn’t even calm his nerves.   
"Relax~" She cooed. "She’s just a little girl, it doesn’t take much to impress them. Just show up, look cute, dance a little, drive her home. Simple as that. It’s not like you have to worry about any actual date stuff since she’s like, what, eleven?"  
"Think she’s thirteen."  
"Oh boy~"  
_"Stop."_ Michonne laughed, smacking Daryl on the back, ignoring the violent flinch he gave. She knew a little about Daryl’s past, due to a drunken confession about how Pa used’a beat ‘im. But she never told him he’d revealed that, and just pretended not to notice his flinch, just like everyone else does. Poor Glenn...  
  
Friday night is when Daryl had finally found the perfect outfit! Glenn and Maggie fucking clapped when he stepped out of the dressing room and Michonne cat called him, causing him to blush and cover his face with a small, accomplished smile.   
"You two better take pictures!" Glenn warned, leaning on Maggie happily. They were all relieved and tired and mostly happy that Daryl found something that he looked great in.  
"I’ll have Beth remind him, she’s going with Daddy." Maggie grinned, and Daryl grunted out at her. He changed out of his outfit, and it was Michonne who payed, urging Daryl to return the money he stole from Merle, since it wouldn’t look good if he showed up with a black eye.   
  
On the drive home, Glenn bought everyone McDonalds and Daryl fucking pigged out. He hadn’t really eaten much this week, though that was nothing new because he usually never really ate much. Not like he could afford anything, especially with the loss of his job. Which Michonne asked about, and Daryl made sure to just grunt. And they all seemed to accept it without any suspicion.   
  
It was a restless sleep the night before the dance, especially with a drunk Merle crashing about the place, bitching about how Daryl was in the goddamn way, even when he was just in his fucking bed. He instantly regretted a _shut the fuck up Merle_ as soon as it came out of his mouth, because a beer bottle came flying at his head, and smashed against the wall behind him after he ducked. So he just left Drunk Merle be and drifted off to sleep.  
  
He slept in until noon and was soon woken up by Merle who swatted him on the ass and told him to get his lazy fuckin’ hide outta bed now, home on his lunch break. And Daryl begrudgingly got up and had a meal with his big brother.  
  
"So that fancy suit hangin’ up?" Merle brought up over some gas station sandwiches he’d bought for the two of them. "Y’all got a lady friend?" Daryl swallowed hard. Oh god, what was he supposed to say, here?  
"Kind of." He muttered, stuffing more of the turkey and cheese sandwich into his mouth.  
"Kind of?"  
"Lil’ one." He muttered out through his mouth full.  
"What, like a fuckin’ midget?"  
Daryl snorted, nearly choking on his food. _No_ , that is _not_ what he had meant, and for Merle to jump to such conclusions caught him off gaurd. He composed himself, swallowing his bite of sandwich.   
"Lil’ girl. Needed someone’a take her to the daddy-daughter dance."  
"Oh my god." Merle grinned tauntingly at him.  
"Shut up." Daryl rolled his eyes. "Kid was beggin’. Think her actual daddy’s a piece of shit, y’know? Heard ‘e’s in jail for beatin’ on ‘er momma."  
"Ain’t you just Mr. Good Deeds? Tell me, little brother, this the same lil’ girl you pulled outta them woods?" Merle asked, leaning closer to Daryl.  
"So what if it is?"  
"Pathetic."  
"Yer mum’s pathetic."  
"What?"  
"What?"  
"...Fuck you, Daryl." Merle laughed, reaching over to ruffle his brother’s hair. Daryl pushed Merle’s hand away, getting up.   
"Guess I gotta go shower.."  
"Wow, it’s that time’a the year already?!" Merle gasped in fake surprise.  
"Oh fuck off, asswipe."  
"Y’all _never_ shower. Was startin’a get used ta ya smellin’ like shit alla time."  
"Ya wouldn’t get it." Daryl muttered, heading into the bathroom. "Keep gaurd!"  
"Pa ain’t gonna pull ya from the shower an’ beat on ya, Dare!" Merle sighed, shaking his head.   
  
It took a good 20 minutes of willpower to begin stripping off his clothes. He was so fucking self conscious, even alone that he hated being exposed like this. Showering was always a fucking struggle and a mental battle with himself, because just getting naked fucking scared him. But once he was compeletely bare, Daryl slipped into the shower and turned on the cold water, cranking it up. He let out a less than dignified squeak as the water rained down on him, but it felt amazing in the heat. And he was glad the dance would take place at night, where it was cooler out. Because jesus christ, he was not going to sweat. Gross.   
  
He washed the shit outta his hair until it was _clean_ , and scrubbed off the dirt that had stained his body. God, it’d been months since he’d last showered, and he realized that maybe this wasn’t fucking healthy. Welp. He toweled off and pulled on a tank top and underwear to lounge in until it was time to get ready for the dance.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Has the Daddy-Daughter Dance shit already been done?


	5. Daddy-Daughter Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl picks Sophia up for the dance and fun ensues!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck I hope this is a good chapter.

A white button up, a red tie, a black vest, and black skinny jeans is what Daryl wore, along with black converse. A pair of sunglasses topped off the whole look. And he decided to drive Merle’s bike, so he and Sophia could ride up in style. He knocked on her door and waited anxiously, hoping he looked alright. It was Carol who answered the door, smiling brightly.   
"Daryl! Oh, come in, come in! Sophia is _so excited_!" And Sophia wasn’t the only one, this woman seemed thrilled that her daughter was going for a good time like the rest of the girls in this town. Daryl was hesitant when he stepped in, looking around the house. Everything was neat and pretty and had little bunnies everywhere. This was definitely a female dominated house.   
  
"Sophia!" Carol called. "Daryl is here!"  
"Can she, uh, wear a pair of shorts under her dress?" The request sounded odd, even to Daryl’s ears, so he elaborated. "Takin’ the bike. Prefer if she was.. covered I guess." And Carol chuckled, heading up to pass on the added dress code to her daughter. After a few minutes, they soon descended down the stairs. Sophia looked beautiful, her strawberry blonde hair curled from braids it looked like she had been wearing previously, and she wore a white, sleeveless dress with a black bow tied around the middle, as well as a pair of black dress shoes.   
"I can’t wait! C’mon!" She grabbed Daryl’s hand and tried to pull him out the door, but Carol insisted on taking pictures. And that was fuckin’ scary, but they were soon on their way to the town hall where the dance was being held. Sophia brought her hairbrush so she could touch up her hair after the motorcycle ride, because the helmet would definitely move it out of place. But she whooped and squealed excitedly, clinging to Daryl. And it was a fun ride. He felt great tonight, besides the nauseating anxiety. But he wouldn’t puke or nothing, living with this shit his entire life, he learned how to control it. For the most part.  
  
They pulled into the parkinglot, all eyes on the two of them. Because no one else pulled up to the Daddy-Daughter Dance on a motorcycle. Daryl got off first and put the kickstand down, then he lifted Sophia carefully off the bike, setting her down. He pulled off the helmet and removed her hairbrush from the saddlebag to help her fix her hair. He put it back when her hair was perfect again, just in time for her to be swarmed by three other little girls, who Daryl learned the names are Lizzie, Mika, and Penny. They all squealed and jumped up and down and Daryl scoffed a laugh, watching them. That is, until Phillip fucking Blake approached.   
"Penny, are you ready to go- in.." He froze, recognizing Daryl now.   
"Yeah, we’ll meet you inside, Sophia!" Penny grabbed onto her dad’s hand and yanked him inside while he and Daryl exchanged glares. Well, that’s one person to avoid tonight. He took Sophia inside after Lizzie and Mika returned to their father, and holy _shit_ this place was huge, and overwhelming. It was dark with colored lights shining down everywhere, and the music was deafening. It was definitely crowded, but Daryl could do this. Probably.   
  
Daryl and Sophia danced to some Katy Perry song that Daryl only recognized from the radio because he was too lazy to switch the station before heading over to the snack table to grab a drink of punch. And it was probably the first bowl of punch Daryl didn’t need to worry about being spiked. He took a swig in his red solo cup and grinned. Oh, it was sweet and uncarbonated. Just how he liked it. He downed the rest of his cup before taking Sophia back out on the dance floor. When her friends joined them, Daryl hung back and let her and her friends dance a little.   
  
"Sophia!" It was Judith’s voice. She was pulling one little girl he recognized from back at the campsite, he thinks her name was Eliza, and her dad, Morales was following the two.  
"Hey Judy!" Sophia hugged the small girl tightly. Judith’s dress was fluffy and pink and she, like a lot of girls here, wore a little tiara. Rick came waltzing up in a blue suit with a black tie, face freshly shaven for the dance.   
"Sophia, you look gorgeous." He complimented, and she did a little bow and giggled out a thank you. "Where’s Daryl?" He asked, looking around. And Sophia told him to wait a moment and dragged Daryl over.  
  
Time froze, at least, it did in Rick’s mind. He’d _never_ seen Daryl cleaned up before, and his appearance just hit him. _Hard_. Oh god, he was staring with his jaw dropped to the floor, unable to find the right words. And this only startled Daryl, self consciously looking over himself.   
"Didn’ spill punch, did I?" He asked nervously, trying to talk over the music.   
"No! No no no, Daryl, you look _great_." Rick breathed out, feeling lightheaded. Those skinny jeans certainly fit the man well, and the way his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, sunglasses on his head just made him look so _rebellious_. And Rick loved it. The giggling of little girls brought Rick out of his daze, realizing he’d been caught drooling over the man in front of him, and Sophia muttered out a "get your own date, Grimes" which caused another fit of giggles around them. Both men now had burning red cheeks. But before he could make a bigger idiot of himself, Judy dragged him away as a Taylor Swift song began to play, and Daryl went back to dance with Sophia.  
  
Rick couldn’t take his eyes off Daryl from across the room. The way he swayed so easy, how his body just _moved_ unlike any other man he’s ever seen, his smile reaching his eyes was just the most goddamn beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Next to his children, that is. He soon snapped out of it and focused on Judith for the next hour until he caught Daryl sneaking out for a smoke break out of the corner of his eye. He left Judy with Morales and Eliza for a few moments, deciding to follow him out.  
  
Daryl was leaning against his bike in the parking lot when Rick found him, smoking a cigarette. And he just looked super fucking cool. So Rick approached him, rubbing his neck sheepishly.  
"Hey, I uh, hope I didn’t embarrass you in there." Rick apologized. Daryl just scoffed out a laugh.  
"Ya crushin’ on me, Grimes?" Daryl teased jokingly. Only, Rick wasn’t joking.  
"I think so, yeah." And Daryl dropped his cigarette, staring wide eyed at Rick.   
"Sorry if it weirds you out, I know you’re not the type who--"  
"--The type who _what_ , Rick?" Daryl was immediately hostile, squaring up to him.  
"..Likes guys.." Rick finished hesitantly, amazed at how angry Daryl had gotten in seconds. "At least, because of--"  
"I ain’t Merle. Thought ya knew that..." He muttered out, picking up his cigarette and took a long drag.  
"I do! I do! I’m sorry, that was dumb of me to assume." Rick sighed. "Let me start over." And Daryl gave him a nod to continue. "I think you look really fucking hot and I wanna go out sometime, _give me your phone number_." Daryl _laughed_. It was so demanding, yet oddly sweet. A tinge of pink painting his cheeks, Daryl rummaged through Merle’s bike before finding a pen and a napkin, writing down his number.   
"Fuckin’ _bossy_." He purred out, handing over the cloth to Rick, who neatly pocketed it with a grin.   
"It runs in the family~" He purred back, and soon he and Daryl were both laughing at their horrible attempts at flirting.   
  
Rick gave Daryl his own number in return and soon retreated back inside for the night. Daryl followed less than a minute later, returning to Sophia's side and danced some more. After they hogged the chocolate fountain for a good 20 minutes. It was Daryl's first chocolate fountain, first chocolate dipped everything, and I mean _everything_. Literally anything edible on that table was dipped into that fountain. Sophia and her friends squealed in disgust that disolved into giggles, watching Daryl experiment with the chocolate.   
  
The dance floor cleared out the moment Cotton Eye Joe started to play. Daryl hadn't known why, but grinned at Sophia.  
"Oh no, I have no idea how to do this!" She laughed, though Daryl pulled her over anyway. Not directly into the middle of the dance floor, but close enough where he had the space to do it. He began to walk Sophia through the dance, hands on his hips, teaching her the routine. She picked it up in no time, her friends soon joining in. It was an easy dance to learn, and soon people who hadn’t joined in were whistiling and clapping along with the song. It was truly a Daddy-Daughter Dance experience, even Little Judith joined in, stumbling a little bit here and there.   
  
And you know Rick was just staring in awe. But also laughing and clapping along. He knew he’d make a damn fool of himself if he even tried attempting the dance, but Daryl just moved to the beat of the song flawlessly, it was mesmerizing. Even to _this_ song. God, the man could _move_. And Rick just loved watching him have fun with all the kids. He was so different from how he briefly would picture the younger Dixon any time Merle would bring up his ‘baby brother’ at the station after being arrested. He pictured a mini Merle, not some.. polar opposite.  
  
The kids fucking _lost it_ at the Cha Cha Slide. Everyone seemed to gather around Daryl, following the man’s lead. How did he know this shit? Well, he’s been to parties and shit. It was rare they played this kiddie shit, but sometimes Glenn and Maggie and Michonne were childish on their nights out. And it was just a guilty pleasure of Daryl’s. Dancing, not the kiddie music. That’d just be weird. Sophia was on one side of Daryl, Judith on the other, and Rick joined in this less complicated dance, stumbling all over the place still. And Judith squealed and shrieked with laughter at her clutz of a dancer dad.   
  
Shut Up and Dance was a definite success, since Rick got to watch Daryl move those hips in ways a man shouldn’t be able to sway, but fuck he loved it. And a few times he caught himself paying too much attention to Daryl and forced it back onto Judith. But it wasn’t a bad force, more of a slap on the wrist and a _down boy_ type thing.   
  
Handclap definitely tired everyone out, dear _lord_. At that point Daryl was swinging Sophia around, cautiously obviously, twirling and dipping the girl. It was great to see him having so much fun, and Sophia seemed to be having the time of her life. Between Judith and her little kindergarten friends needing a chance to run around, Rick made sure to take a few videos of Daryl and Sophia for Carol. There was no way her mother could go without seeing that bright and _happy_ smile, having fun like a normal kid at an event she was never given the privledge to attend before.  
  
Daryl somehow ended up dancing with Beth, Sophia and Judith at one point, Judith on his shoulders, Beth holding one of his hands standing on one of his feet, Sophia mimicking her on the other side. Hershel and Rick smiled, watching Daryl try and juggle all three girls of all different ages who just seemed to _adore_ him, and ended up somehow taking on Lizzie and Mika at one point as well, both hanging off each arm. Mr. Samuels had asked Rick about Daryl, making sure he was safe for his girls to be around, and Rick gave a genuine and confident nod, letting him know that Daryl was completely safe.  
  
And at this moment, with Daryl piled on with all of these giggling little girls, Rick knew he was _in love_. There was no way a man that beautiful and selfless and _great with children_ , especially his own, couldn’t get Rick’s heart. No, he decided he’d go for it. He needed to! If Daryl would have him, fuck what Lori and Shane think! Carl and Judith adored Daryl, and Rick did as well. Maybe this would be a great turning point in his life since the Lori/Shane fiasco.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first songs that are actually named are very American things I assume, just look up the songs on YouTube if you haven't heard them. And you'll realize why we love to blast them at school dances~


	6. Family Matters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phillip wants his fucking money and Daryl is the most adorable babysitter ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit I kept losing motivation for this, mostly because I took it in one direction, then deleted a good billion words and started again after the first part. Needless to say, I'm much more happy with this turn I decided to take instead. :D

Daryl had left Sophia to chat with her friends again while he went for another smoke break. He was so tired now, exhausted. He’d finally rid himself of 5 little girls who all wanted to climb on him, and he’d let them even though he knew his muscles would be crying in the morning. The smoke entering his lungs calmed him down a bit from the high of the party inside, and he could feel himself smiling, closing his eyes, finally letting his guard down--  
  
**_Only that was a bad fucking idea_**. Daryl gasped out when he felt a sharp pain enter his abdomen, and his eyes shot open to see Phillip.  
"Tell Merle I said _I want my money_." He grinned, leaving the knife in Daryl’s flesh as he stalked back into the dance. Cigarette falling from his mouth, Daryl dropped to his knees and began breathing erratically from the burning, sharp pain in his lower stomach. _That was so fucking **unnecessary**_.   
  
He pulled out the knife, which fucking hurt a _lot_ , and quickly cut the sleeves off his shirt to bind around the wound. It was a bitch, but he was in survival mode at the moment and he was doing what he needed to in order to stop the bleeding. Michonne was going to be pissed about the outfit, though... He’d used his tie for padding, tying the sleeves tightly around his torso. His hands were so fucking bloody and he knew he was sweating. He felt like he was going to pass out and quicky grabbed out his phone and Rick’s number, sending him the best text he could manage with bloody, clammy fingers.  
  
_Bring Sophia home_.   
  
Then, everything went black.  
  
Rick saw the text almost immediately. Daryl. But it seemed a little weird, what happened.   
  
_Why, is everything ok?_   
  
No response. He waited 5 more minutes before trying again.  
  
_Daryl?_   
  
Nothing. It was the end of the night anyway, and he rounded up Judith and Sophia, who was disappointed Daryl had left her to ride home with Rick, but didn’t complain. The night she had was enough.   
"Why is his motorcycle still here if he wants you to take me home?" Sophia asked Rick once they reached the parkinglot, walking with Beth and Hershel back to their car.   
"I’m not sure.." Rick frowned. There was definitely something off about this, Rick could feel it in his stomach. He squinted a bit at a figure on the ground by Daryl’s bike. His heart sunk into his fucking stomach and he handed a sleeping Judith over to Beth, sprinting over to the motorcycle.  
  
"Daryl!" He cried out, dropping to his knees beside the unconscious, bloody man, tearing holes in the knees of his dress pants in the process. Hershel, Sophia and Beth ran over, Judith awake and confused. Sophia began to cry at Daryl’s state and Judith joined in soon enough.   
"Bethy, call 911." Hershel instructed her daughter as he joined Rick on the ground, rolling Daryl onto his back and began checking his vitals after instructing Rick keep pressure on the wound. He was still alive, but he was pale.   
  
Sophia held Judith close as Beth called the police and informed them that Daryl had been stabbed. Rick was a goddamn mess of tears and sweat, just staring down at Daryl’s lifeless body.  
"He’ll make it, Rick." Hershel reassured. The man was a vet, so he knew a good measure about what he was talking about. Still, the pain in his chest didn’t go away, and wouldn’t for the rest of the night. It was Hershel who took the girls home to their mothers, and went home with Beth. And Beth ended up telling Maggie what had happened to Daryl, and the news traveled to Michonne and Glenn rather quickly. They would all be at the hospital in the morning, that’s for sure.   
  
It was Shane who took the call, and honest to god, he looked distressed to see Daryl all bloodied and injured. He didn’t like the man, but he didn’t wish _death_ on him. He watched as a detective picked up a knife with gloves and stuck it in an evidence bag.  
"Hey Rick?" Shane clasped his partner on the shoulder while Daryl was being loaded into the ambulence.   
"Hmm?" Rick looked over sadly.   
"Who did all that work with the sleeves on him?" He couldn’t help but ask. Honestly, it didn’t seem like a thing Rick would’ve thought of. And himself neither.   
"Must’ve done it himself before he passed out, cuz we found him like that."  
"Crafty fucker, ain’t he?" Shane licked his lips in that nervous habit he’s always had.   
"Yeah. Let Carl and Judith know he’s going to be fine, ok? I know Judith is probably going to be telling Carl what she saw.."  
"Yeah, don’t worry about it man." He pat Rick on the shoulder before he took off to his cruiser to do some paperwork back at the station, Rick climbing into the ambulence with the EMTs and held Daryl’s hand as they sped off to the hospital.  
  
Daryl woke up irritated. A blinding light overhead was giving him a fucking headache, and his side was throbbing. He immediately went to yank the IV from his arm when a hand stopped him.   
" _No,_ that needs to stay in, dummy."   
"Fuck off, Mer. Itches.." He mumbled out, feeling shitty.   
"Don’t matter, ya need the blood."  
" _Ew,_ who’s blood?!" Daryl jerked up into a sitting position, which caused a sharp pain in his stomach. _"Ah!"_  
"Dumbass." Merle pushed his brother back down, but motioned to a patch of gauze taped to his own arm.   
"Good.." He breathed out. Laying in this hospital bed with only a thin gown covering him was fucking obnoxious though. "Where my clothes, Mer?"  
"Think th’ shirt got cut off."  
_"Shit."_  
"Already got yer clothes. Gotta change your emergency contact ta me. It was Pa, but they called the house first."  
"Yeah, I’ll do that shit later. When can I go home?"  
"Mornin’. Ya lost a lotta blood. They’s wanna keep y’all here overnight." Merle scoffed.  
"Why?"  
"That fuckin’ cop ya rode ‘ere with." There it is.  
"Don’ fuckin’ do this now, Merle. Seriously, ain’t feelin’ it." Daryl sighed. "Where’d he go anyway?"  
"Grabbin’ food. Made ‘im get me sumthin’ too."  
"Y’all are such a mooch, y’know?"  
"Cops love doin’ good deeds~"  
  
And the both of them shared a laugh before Daryl turned on the tv in his room. He asked how he even got a separate room, but Merle just grumbled something about the fuckin’ cop and Daryl decided not to bring up anything else that may involve Rick. They just argued over the fucking tv until Rick got back with pizza.  
  
"Pizza’s here! Daryl, I’m so glad you’re awake!" Rick greeted cheerfully, ignoring the glare from Merle he recieved. "Cheese and mushroom, sounds like a good pizza choice."  
"Fer pussies." Merle grabbed his sandwich he guilted Rick into buying for him.  
"Fuck up, Mer, honestly." Daryl’s voice rasped out as he sat up carefully, adjusting his pillow to lean against. "Thanks Rick. Carl and Judith ok? And Sophia?"  
"Yeah, they’re all fine." Rick gave a reassuring smile, getting Daryl a slice of pizza on a paper plate and set it on the tray he pushed to over above Daryl’s lap. Daryl dug right in. "So... they said the stab, it didn’t puncture anything important. Like it was intentional _not_ to kill you." Daryl just gave a non-commital grunt, glancing to Merle, who returned his look. Seeing this exchange, Rick caught on pretty quickly. "So you know who did it?" Grunt. "And you’re not going to tell me, are you?" _Grunt_.  
"Quit grillin’ ‘im, _Officer Friendly_ , kid’s tryin’a recover y’know." Merle scolded.   
"Yeah, alright. But I’m not letting this go." He grabbed his own slice of pizza and sat across from Merle on the opposite side of Daryl. "You really made Sophia’s night though. She had so much fun." Grunt.  
"Use yer fuckin’ words, Dickhead." Merle muttered, eyes glued to the tv.  
_"I guess."_ Daryl hissed out, annoyed. Rick just chuckled. "I got videos."  
"Oh no.."  
"Ooh." Merle tuned back into the conversation, and Daryl couldn’t help but snort a laugh at Merle’s enthusiastic reaction. "Send ‘em to Darylina so I can see." Rick really shouldn’t’ve laughed. But he did. The nickname Merle gave his brother was just funny. And he paid for it by getting a hot piece of pizza to the face.  
"Ow! _Daryl!"_ Rick scolded, catching it and placing it on another plate quickly. And Merle’s obnoxious laughter filled the room as Rick cleaned himself off with a napkin.   
  
"Muscle spasm." Was Daryl’s pathetic excuse.   
"I’m sending these to Carol."  
"Don’t."  
"Too late~" Rick got up. "I have an early shift tomorrow, so I gotta get going."  
"See ya later Officer~" Merle teased, giving a lil wave, which Daryl rolled his eyes at.  
"Bye Merle~" Rick cooed, causing Merle to grimace in disgust. "See ya Darylina~" Daryl picked up the whole pizza box and Rick darted out of the room before he could be assaulted with anymore pizza.   
  
"Was Phillip, wasn’t it?" Merle hissed out after a few moments after Rick left.  
"Jus’ give ‘im his fuckin’ money. Goin’ after you ain’t workin’ so he’s set his sights on me. Ain’t fuckin’ ok." Daryl growled.  
"Workin’ on it. He’ll leave us alone fer another week."  
"Give him _all_ of it. Ain’t endin’ up in the hospital again. Fuckin’ cunt probably ruined that lil’ girl’s night."  
"You’re so sweet. It’s disgustin’."  
"Fuck y’all."  
 

* * *

  
   
"You and Sophia are so cute!" Maggie squealed, standing with Glenn and Michonne around Maggie’s phone as they watched the videos that Carol had sent to Maggie, who had been sent them by Rick. They were at Hershel’s place, Daryl laying on the couch, head in Beth’s lap.   
"Pff. Jus’ dancin’."  
"That was a really nice thing you did, Daryl."  
"Even though that’s a good hundred bucks down the drain for the outfit." Michonne muttered bitterly.  
"Ain’t my fault Merle can’t fuckin’ keep his shit together." Daryl grumbled.   
"You aren’t going to file a police report?" Glenn sat down, moving Daryl’s legs onto his lap.  
"No fuckin’ way, they’ll get Mer. Can’t have ‘im in prison again, he’s gettin’ better." He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face while Beth ran her fingers through his hair, humming softly.   
"Well this guy coulda _killed_ you." Glenn only continued to fret.  
"Nah, he wasn’t out ta kill me. Jus’ scare Merle a lil. Won’t kill me anyway, cuz Merle will fuckin’ lose his goddamn mind and kill erryone on the goddamn planet. Not even exaggeratin’, he’ll get _that_ pissed."  
  
"Merle sounds mean." Beth observed, snuggling Daryl’s head.   
"He is. He’s gotta be." Daryl sat up despite Beth’s protests. "Gotta be at work soon."  
"You can’t have the week off? You were just _stabbed_."  
"Fuck off, will ya? Ain’t no goddamn damsel. ‘m _fine_." Daryl grumbled, standing up to stretch.   
"Take care of yourself." Maggie reminded.   
"Yeah yeah, eat shit." But no one was offended by the exchange, since that was just simply Daryl. He left the Greene residence and headed on back home to sit and do nothing, since no one had gotten back to him about the applications. It would be a boring afternoon.   
  
Ding!  
  
His phone. Jesus Christ if it was Merle from the other room asking for a beer, he was going to fucking scream. Except, when he checked it, it was a number he didn't recognize. He'd named Rick as _Deputy Dickhead_ in his contacts, so it wasn't him, and Carl was _Mini Grimes_ so it wasn't him either. He looked at the text, raising a brow.  
  
_I need you to watch the kids_.  
  
Daryl was confused. Was this Rick from another number.  
  
_It's Shane_.   
  
The next message read. Well, he guessed he could go and watch Carl and Judy. But why did _Shane_ need help?  
  
_I'll need the address._  
  
There. And immediately an address was texted to him, in the wealthier suburban area of King's County. Jesus Christ.   
  
_Rick and I are floored at work and Lori can't leave early. The kids will be home any minute._  
  
_I'll be there in 10._  
  
_Key's in the mailbox if Carl isn't home and already unlocked it._  
  
_Got it_.  
  
So Daryl jumped up and got dressed in a sleeveless flannel and a pair of loose jeans, yanking his leather vest on over it.  
"Where y’all goin’ in such a rush?" Merle asked from his bed once Daryl started making a rukus of getting ready.  
"Jus’ runnin’ an errand."  
"For?"  
"Glenn." Sure, it was a lie. But he didn’t need shit from Merle.  
"Pussy boy can’t do his own errands?" Merle sat up, closing the magazine he’d been reading. It was some motorcycle mag. One that _Daryl_ had bought, so he snatched it from his brother, rolled it up, and smacked him with it.  
"Guess not." Merle snatched the mag back, glaring at Daryl.  
"Don’t be gone long."  
"No promises." And Daryl was out the door. And then back in the door when he realized he forgot his boots, which prompted Merle to call him a dumbass. Daryl flipped him off and headed out again, getting in the truck and drove off.   
  
He headed to the address and parked in the empty driveway, heading up to the porch. Jesus Christ, this house was worth more than Daryl’s _life_. It was pretty, white picket fence and flower garden type shit. The porch was a nice sitting area, and Daryl definitely felt compelled to take off his boots before he entered. Checking the mailbox attached to the wall next to the door, Daryl unlocked the door and entered the beautiful, white house. He unlaced and toed off his boots once he saw the clean carpeting, setting them neatly beside the door.   
  
_Any specific instructions?_   
  
Daryl decided to text Shane as he headed into the kitchen. Spotless.   
  
_Yeah, snacks and homework. Dinner at 6. Might be some money in the cabinet if you can’t cook. Maybe take the kids outside instead of letting them rot their brains away on those damn videogames. Emergency numbers are taped to the landline. No snacks after 8. Judy in bed by 9, Carl in bed by at least 10:30._  
  
_Shit, when y’all gonna be home?_  
  
_I really don’t know. Can’t really get into detail here and Lori is working an understaffed night shift. Just a shit show here._

 _And uh.. Thanks._  
  
_No problem, Officer. :P_  
  
Daryl began to look around for snacks. What the fuck do suburban kids eat? Well, there was fruit in the fridge. And toothpicks on the shelf. So with a grin, he set out a plate and got to work. He built fruit zombies made of all sorts of cubed melons and berries and grapes, setting up an army on the plate right on the island table. Seems like a suitable snack. After he washed his hands thouroughly of course. He wasn’t going to make the suburban kids eat dirt covered fruit zombies. He poured a couple cups of juice as well, looked like some fruit punch shit and placed them down for Carl and Judith. These fucking kids better enjoy their stupid snack. Otherwise Daryl was going to punch a bitch. Probably one of these fucking suburban fruity ass neighbors.   
  
After a few minutes, the front door opened. "Shane, we’re home!" Carl called, Judith’s excited babbling ringing through the hallway.   
"Help me get my shoes off!" Judith bossily ordered, and Carl just grumbled, helping his little sister. Daryl headed out to lean on the doorframe, arms folded across his chest.  
"Get’cher homework done." Both kids immediately looked up, Judith squeaking happily.  
"Daryl! How did you find mummy’s house?!"  
"Shane gave me the address. Got stuck at work." He gave a shrug. "Got snacks made."  
"You _made_ them? Shane just makes us get them ourselves." Carl pulled off his own shoes, setting his and Judy’s next to Daryl.   
"Kinda. Jus’ fruit an’ juice."  
"I _love_ fruit." Judy stressed, looking Daryl dead in the eye. And it scared him a little, honestly.  
  
Daryl lead the kids into the kitchen setting the fruit zombie plate down on the table along with the cups of juice.   
"Are these zombies?" Carl asked with a grin.  
"Could be." Was Daryl’s response, giving a shrug. Judith giggled, and the kids got to work on their homework. Judith’s was easy to help with, but Carl’s was a fucking nightmare. Daryl honest to god was ready to shoot himself in the fucking head. He’s never been good at school, hell he stopped going about 15, unlike Merle who actually graduated. Seems like it should’a been the other way around with the Dixon brothers, but nope, it was Daryl who was the dummy. "What the fuck even is this shit? Since when do letters go in math?" He hissed out, staring stressfully at the paper.  
"That’s an easy one. I need help with number 3."  
"That’s like the whole fuckin’ alphabet, tell your teacher I said this is _bullshit_. Fuckin’ google it, I dunno."  
"Mom doesn’t let us use the internet for homework." Carl argued.  
"Well I can’t fuckin’ help ya."  
"But you’re an adult."  
"I stopped goin’a school early. Jus’ wasn’t workin’."  
"Oh." And Carl took out his phone, starting to google the answer.   
"Judy’s homework is better anyway." Daryl grumbled, going back to help Judith color in a picture of a pumpkin.   
  
Once homework was done and snacks were finished, Daryl rinsed off the plates and cups to be washed later, and took Carl and Judith outside. It was a rather large backyard, and while Judith played on the swings, Carl practiced his soccer and kicked the ball back and forth with Daryl. It turned into a game of two on two when Partick and Duane had come over. It was to play videogames, but Carl entised them into it. Daryl and Carl’s team obviously won, because Patrick’s a lil bitch and Duane was stuck with Patrick on his team. And soon Daryl had taken Judith inside to color while the boys continued with their soccer game. He needed to make dinner now. Dinner at 6, and it was 5. So he grabbed out some ground beef from the fridge and began making burgers with the stuff that was around the kitchen. It was easy enough, since he knew how to cook for those rare moments they actually had food in the house. So after making the burger patties, he headed out to the grill with a few tools he found and got it going, Judith returning outside to play.  
  
"You’re grilling?" Carl asked, panting slightly from the game he’d just been playing. Daryl gave a nod.   
"Yeah, taste better this way. If y’all wanna get that table on the padio cleaned up, we could probably eat outside."  
"Yeah!" Carl’s grin was big. "We haven’t sat there in years."  
"If ya know where the cleanin’ stuff is." And Carl nodded, taking Patrick and Duane inside to locate the cleaning supplies and made quick work of the plastic table and chairs. They got bored halfway through it, but Daryl turned it into a game, told them whoever gets the most chairs cleaned gets the biggest burger. And surprisingly, it was Patrick who won, his chairs cleaned quickly, but thouroughly. And the other boys ribbed on him, complaining his longer arms could get the job done faster. But rules are rules. After putting cheese on everyone’s burgers, he began to serve them up, bringing out toppings and condiments.  
  
It was a loud meal, the boys all talking about this and that and shit Daryl frankly didn’t understand, even Judith joined in. And the boys were nice to her, treated her like one of the guys instead of just Carl’s baby sister. It was great. Daryl felt accomplished. Honestly, for a moment, just a moment, he felt like he had a family with kids. Maybe he felt like a single parent, but it was nice. These kids looked up to him instead of talking down to him, calling him worthless and stupid and treating him like he was nothing more than a waste of space and another mouth to feed. Not that anyone fed him anyway, he did that himself. But still. And it was fun cleaning the ketchup off Judy’s cheeks, still full of babyfat, as she squirmed around and shrieked out giggles, refusing to be cleaned.   
  
About 6:15 is when everyone had finished their cheeseburgers, the boys ended up having seconds because Daryl forgot to make a side with them. But that’s alright, they didn’t complain, nor did they need french fries anyway. While everyone played out in the yard again, Daryl cleaned up the plastic table and did the dishes after Carl promised to keep an eye on his sister while Daryl cleaned up. When needing more room to run around, Daryl took them out to the road. It was a residential area, and there wasn’t any traffic. So Judith was on her bike, riding back and forth while the boys raced up and down the street, Daryl walking with Judith as she rode. 

It was about then when Shane and Rick pulled up in the cruiser, and Daryl snatched up Carl and Duane over his shoulders, pulling Judith’s bike out of the rode quickly to let them pass.  
"Woah!"  
"Hey!" And Patrick was laughing as he trailed behind them. Daryl set the boys down after Rick and Shane pulled into the driveway next to Daryl’s truck.   
"Daddy! Shane!" Judith squeaked, scrambling off her bike and ran towards the vehicle, only to trip on her shoelace that had come untied. Before he could even register his actions, Daryl dove and caught Judith before she face planted in the road, earning himself some gnarly road burn on his shoulder and hip, and a scraped up cheek. The little girl’s eyes were wide, trying to process what had just happened and Rick was running over to them quickly, scooping up Judith.   
"Daryl, are you alright?" And Daryl just started to laugh, dabbing at his cheek with his bare palm, blood coming off on it.  
"That was _awesome!"_ Duane cheered, only to be smacked by Carl.   
"He’s _hurt_."   
"Ain’t nothin’." Daryl shrugged it off, getting up, tying Judith’s shoe.  
"We should get that cleaned up."  
"Nah, I’ll do it later." Daryl waved him off, standing up straight once Judith’s shoe was tied nice and tight. "It’ll be fine." And now Shane was approaching Carl, grilling him about the day.   
"What went on while Daryl was babysittin’?" He asked, as if he didn’t trust the man. Which he didn’t, not entirely.  
  
"Well, Daryl was there when we got home, and he made us Zombies!"  
"Zombies?" Rick looked over at Carl, a brow raised.   
"Fruit zombies!" Judith grinned happily.  
"With toothpicks and cut up fruit and grapes as the heads." Carl elaborated. "And cups of juice while we did our homework. I ended up having to google number 3 to my homework because Daryl didn’t know the answer. He actually got kinda mad and said the alphabet has no place in math." To that, Rick snorted a laugh and Daryl looked sheepish. Carl continued. "And then we went outside to play soccer and that’s when Duane and Patrick came over. We played 2 on 2 and Daryl and I won. Oh, and Judy was on the swings. Then Daryl grilled up burgers and me and Patrick and Duane cleaned up the table on the padio and we ate out there! Then after Daryl did the dishes, we came out front to race."  
"Sounds like you guys had a lot of fun."  
"Daryl colored in the stem of my pumpkin!" Judy added, smiling at Daryl, who glanced away shyly.  
  
"Can I ask now?"  
"They had a long day, D." Carl shrugged at Duane.   
"Ask what?"  
"Can you three race? Patrick thinks Daryl would be the fastest, I think it’s dad, and Duane is betting on Shane." Carl pointed to the chalk lines on one end of the road and then on the other.   
"Please, just there and back!" Duane begged, all three of them giving the three adults the stuck out pleading lip. Shane sighed, rubbing the back of his neck and looked over at Daryl who shrugged and Rick who only continued to smile.   
"How far?"  
"Just to the chalk lines and back. Gotta touch the line though, like the shuttles."  
"We called ‘em suicides." Daryl commented absentmindedly. And when he got a bunch of confused stares, he was forced to explain. "Cuz anyone who chose to do them, ‘was basically suicide. Most kids heavin’ an’ pukin’, lungs on fire, passin’ out. An’ our gym teacher fuckin’ hated us, so that was usually his entertainment." Shane grimaced at the cussing Daryl so blatantly used in front of the kids, but Rick spoke before he could.  
"I guess we can."  
"Yay daddy!" Judith cheered as she was set down.  
  
So the three men lined up at the chalk starting line, Daryl bent down, leg back to push off of, Shane and Rick standing in a similar stance, one foot in front, leaning slightly forwards.   
"On your mark!" Carl called, and Daryl lifted his bum up slightly, Shane and Rick grinning challengingly at each other. "Get set..." He lifted Judith up on his shoulders. **_"GO!"_** And they were off!  
  
Rick and Shane were side by side, matching in strides, Daryl a good five steps ahead of them both. His hip and shoulder were burning due to the untreated road burn, but the pain only made him work harder. He was fucking _flying_ , like that one time he and Merle disturbed a couple bears on a hunting trip and it suddenly felt like every man for himself until Merle called for him to hurry his ass up. And that’s when his tiny legs sped up faster and surpassed the 23 year old Merle, running straight passed the man. And tripped right over a log, smashing his head open on a rock. He was about 10 at the time, and Merle had to draw the fucking bears away while Daryl tried not to fucking pass out from blood loss. His brother retrieved him an hour later and they made another appearance at the hospital, one the staff wasn’t too happy to have.   
  
But right now, this was more important. This was showing two cops up in a race with an audience of children. Yes, this was more important than outrunning a couple of angry fucking bears with Merle. Reaching the chalk line, Daryl skidded to a stop, leaning down to flop on his bum and touch the line with his fingertips. He jumped up just as quickly, darting back the way he had came from, passing between Rick and Shane. They weren’t far behind him now, Shane charging with his whole body leaning forwards and Rick was sprinting with all his power, soon passing Shane, but just barely. They were both right on his tail, and Daryl wasn’t going to fucking lose. So for the second time in ten minutes, Daryl dove onto the pavement again, right over the finish like mere seconds before Shane and Rick crossed, making it a two way tie for second.   
  
Now Daryl had road burn on both hips and shoulders. But he fucking won, the kids all cheering for him while Rick and Shane panted, winded from trying so goddamn hard. Daryl hadn’t even noticed he’d smacked his head on the ground in the dive until Judith gasped and pointed at the blood now running down his face and into his eye. He only grinned though, reaching for his trusty red rag in the back of his now torn jeans and dabbed at his head with a small wince and hiss.   
"Jeez, all that for a _race_?" Rick tried to help him up, but Daryl pushed him away and stood up on his own quickly, straightening out his clothes.   
"’s fine. Ain’t considered an injury t’me unless there’s a bone stickin’ out or need for staples in m’head."  
"That’s what you _might_ need." Rick said sternly, trying to move Daryl’s hair to look at the cut, but the man flinched away from the touch and stepped back, looking at Rick warily. While Rick was trying to look over the injury, Shane got the kids in the house so they could clean up and Patrick and Duane headed home.  
  
"Daryl, let me see." Rick said slowly, hands raised in the air.  
"’m fine." He did check under his shirt to check on the injury from Phillip days ago. It was healing up fine, though, no worse for wear. So that thankfully didn’t open up again. But the road rash was going to be a bitch to treat.   
"At least let me drive you home, then. I really don’t feel safe with you driving home with a head injury." Daryl only grunted, but handed over his keys, starting towards his truck.  
"Whooped your ass in that race, though." He taunted, slipping into the passenger seat while Rick sat in the driver’s. Daryl kicked his feet up on the dash, refusing to move them even when Rick scolded and even flashed his badge at him. Fuck no, he was comfortable.  
"You have stuff at your place to clean all that up?"  
"Nope." Rick deadpanned at him for a moment, putting the car in drive and headed down the street.   
"So what _do_ you have?"  
"Lukewarm water and a crusty wash cloth." Daryl snorted a laugh at his own expense, because wow that sounded so pathetic.  
"..My house it is." Rick turned left instead of right, driving to his own house instead of Daryl’s shit shack.   
"Don’t gotta do that."  
"It’ll make me feel better."  
"Psh." But that was the end of that conversation. They just drove in a comfortable silence back to Rick’s.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please ignore all the typos and shit in this, because dear lord I had to watch a 3 year old while doing this. I also might create a Twitter account for you guys to follow to keep in touch with me and I'll update you here and there with what's going on with the new chapters. Let me know what you think! Plus I have some edits for the stories that I think you'd like, I can post them on there too~


	7. Self Destruction.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl's inner turmoil and a date with Rick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Help

_Sometimes someone hurts you so bad, it stops hurting at all. Until something makes you feel again, and then it all comes back._  
_Every word._  
 _Every hurt._  
 _Every moment. How could you ever understand where I come from? Even if you ask. Even if you listen. You do not really hear._  
 _Or see._  
 _Or feel._  
 _You don’t remember my story. You haven’t walked my path. You haven’t seen what I’ve seen._  
  
_My past defines me. This is who I am._  
 _I am unseen._  
 _Unheard._  
 _Unwanted._  
 _That is what I am._  
 _If I even am anything._  
 _Deeper and deeper I fell within myself. And nothing could draw me out. Trapped in the misery of my life. Unable to see the light. Unable to see the dawn._  
 _To feel._  
 _To hope._  
 _And it felt like the darkest days of my life kept coming. The blackest nights from my soul never stopped._  
  
_It seemed like it was always nighttime and nightmares and never morning. And maybe you wonder: "Why?"_  
 _But mostly, you try not to think about it, and try to get by, and try to survive. And all the other stuff seems so much like nothing, compared to just wanting the most important things back again._  
 _Like wishing you could see your momma’s smile again, and hear her sing that one favorite song that always calmed you down when things were all messed up._  
 _Or if you couldn’t have her back, at least get to see your big brother, because you know he needs you. And he goes down a dark path when he’s all alone. And who’s going to hold his hand and whisper "it’ll be alright" to him, even though he claims he doesn’t want to hear it? And who will whisper it to me?_  
  
_I know I am helpless._  
 _Dependant._  
 _Desperate._  
 _But what happens when those you need the most, threaten your very existence? I’ve heard plenty of promises. And they all sound the same._  
 _But push hard enough, and sooner or later they all prove to be empty._  
 _The sun comes up every morning. But do you know where? Each place it’s somewhere different. It’s hard to find East when your brain can’t focus on where you are. But at least it comes. It always comes. I’ve come to depend on that._  
  
_And slowly,_  
 _slowly seasons changed around me._  
 _And it seemed this time, that maybe, the world would **not** be pulled out from under me again._  
 _Feet safe._  
 _Roots starting to grow._  
 _Little buds of hope forming._  
 _Slowly attempting to trust this new life._  
 _I wish someone would tell me "it’s going to be ok". That one day, maybe, I’ll feel **normal**. That I won’t always be **alone**._  
  
_That I’ll have a husband who will hug me and be strong for me. Because maybe, I can’t do it all myself. This: my past, my story. It’s my fault. It’s because of me. And it’ll always define my future._  
 _I’m **not** loveable._  
 _I am **not** worthy of care._  
 _And that glimmer of light, it’s just another path of pain and empty promises._  
  
_I’m tearing myself apart._  
 _Sometimes, my life feels like a circle. A neverending, ongoing cycle. And I don’t know how to stop it. Or change it. Or break it. And when I finally come close, it starts all over again._  
 _A whirlwind._  
 _A tornado._  
 _Set out to destroy me._  
 _Sometimes things begin to get better. Life falls into a new rhythm. A new ‘normal’. And, it may not be the best. But I can make peace with it._  
  
_And it feels like almost... I might be happy._  
 _Like maybe I can write my own story. Start from scratch. **Forget** all the past._  
 _But then, **of course** , someone else makes a choice._  
 _And leaves me alone to figure it out. And when I finally come close,_  
 _It starts all over again._  
  
_When I close my eyes and see my life, the life I’ve always imagined, I see something different than what I see now. Sometimes, I explode. Sometimes slowly, sometimes all at once. But it always happens. And when it does, it ruins everything._  
 _I am my own destruction._  
 _And it will never stop._  
   
 

* * *

  
   
They pulled into Rick’s driveway and headed inside. Something familiar to Daryl from probably about a month ago now. The leaves were starting to fall off the trees, weather becoming colder at night due to autumn approaching. It was serene, and beautiful. Something Daryl always stops and takes a moment to admire. But it wasn’t a long moment, because Rick ushered him into the house to tend to his injuries. He had taken off his vest and rolled the waistband of his jeans down, but that’s as much as undressed as he was willing to get in front of Rick. He was already exposing too much, but he knew Rick was a stubborn man, he could tell.  
  
Rick sat next to Daryl on the sofa, first aid kit in his lap as he began working on Daryl’s head, using peroxcide much to Daryl’s discomfort and taped a folded square of gauze over the wound, then did the same with his cheek, only he used a bandaid for that. Then he worked on Daryl’s shoulders, using a soothing aloe after cleaning them both and left them uncovered, telling Daryl he needed to be careful. Reaching his hips is what sent the whole encounter into a downward spiral. Rick knelt on one side of Daryl, starting to clean the left burn, only for another injury to catch his eye. Right at the bone of the hip were small cuts and scars. The cuts were starting to heal, too old to have been done today. And they were definitely self inflicted.  
  
Daryl had definitely caught him staring, and something inside him snapped. He shoved Rick away and jumped up, grabbing up his vest and keys, storming out the door.  
"Daryl!" Rick called, scrambling to his feet and quickly stumbling after the man, grabbing his wrist. Wrong move. He was on the ground in seconds, cheek throbbing and Daryl’s knuckles starting to bruise.  
"Don’t fuckin’ touch me!" Daryl screamed, face red with anger. "Never ever! Don’t y’all fuckin’ come _near_ me! Fuck you, Rick!" He hissed out, jumped into his truck, and peeled out, driving just above the speed limit out of spite. Rick didn’t have his cruiser, he couldn’t pull him over. Not that he would, because he’d get fucking punched again.  
  
Once he pulled into the dirt driveway of his shit shack of a house, he headed inside and stormed into the bathroom, climbing into the shower after shedding his vest and blasted the cold water, sitting down. He was soaked within a minute, and the water dripping off his cheeks masked his own tears as he broke down, hugging his arms to his chest as he berated himself mentally over the whole encounter with Rick. He hadn’t meant to get so angry, he’d just... _panicked_. His fight or flight reflexes kicked in, and his temper had exploded.  
  
And ruined everything. Daryl leaned back in the shower, balling his hand into a fist and hit it against the side of his leg over and over. He couldn’t be bothered to use something else besides his fist to relieve this stress, so bruising up the wet, sensitive skin would have to do. After a good half hour Daryl decided to finally retreat out of the shower, not wanting to run up the water bill. Because everyone in the household would immediately know it was him, with his luck. So with his boots squelching each time he stepped, water sloshing around inside, Daryl made his way to his and Merle’s room, ignoring his brother who was on the phone and sorting papers at their pathetic excuse of a desk, and flopped onto his own bed, yanking the blankets up over his head.  
  
"Hold on, I’ll call you back." He heard Merle say, and then a _beep_ which meant he hung up the phone. "Daryl what the _fuck_?" Merle looked over the wet, shitty carpeting in their room, something that desperately needed to be torn up and redone. "’s all this? Yer fuckin’ soaked."  
"Leave me the fuck alone." Daryl rasped out, sounding just so tired. The evening had been going so well, and he had to go and fuck it up.  
"Trackin’ this shit errywhere, gonna get fuckin’ sick if y’all stay in bed like that."  
"Yeah, since when’a you care?"  
"C’mon now, Darylina. Don’t be like that." Merle urged, though his tone was anything but playful.  
"Wake me up at noon tomorrow." Was the last thing Daryl would say on the matter. Merle would drop it too, leaving his brother alone to sulk. There wasn’t much he could do. His brother was an adult, and if he wanted to sulk and soak his bed, he was damn well allowed to. It wasn’t healthy, but it wasn’t Merle’s choice to make.   
   
 

* * *

  
   
A swat on the bum told Daryl it was noon and it was time to get up. "Got lunch." Is all Merle said, heading out of their bedroom. Daryl felt gross, damp and cold. So he changed into a pair of Merle’s sweats and a new tank top, heading outside to grab his phone out of his truck. 3 missed calls and a new text message. All from Rick.  
  
[ _Deputy Dickhead_ ]: _Daryl I’m sorry. I know I pissed you off but that wasn’t my intention. I hope you got the rest of your wounds treated and I hope you don’t hate me. Shane texted me and said the kids wouldn’t stop going on and on about you until it was bedtime. Thank you, by the way, I don’t know if anyone said that, but you were a huge help yesterday. Text me back if you want me to pick you up for dinner._  
  
Wow. So he wasn’t even angry? Daryl’s heart fluttered at the message, feeling himself swooning. Daryl fucking punched the man in the face and told him to go fuck himself, and yet here he was inviting him to dinner. Daryl’s brain screamed that it was a bad idea, that he’d fuck it up again, but his fingers had other plans as they texted back a response.  
  
[ _Daryl_ ]: _I want chinese this time._  
  
Send. His self destructive tendencies strike again, setting him up for failure. But what more was there to do tonight? He sure as fuck wasn’t going out to get shitfaced with Merle, not when he was feeling so shitty. He’d never been arrested before, and he was an angry drunk so it’d be bound to happen if he tries with all the stress lately. That and he didn’t want another pair of desperate tits in his face that Merle would try and shove on his baby brother, trying to get him a piece’a ass even though it made Daryl’s anxiety skyrocket through the roof and cause him to either duck under a table in the bar until Merle forcefully dragged him out and took him home, or he’d camp out in the dirty men’s room until he needed to go break up a fight between Merle and some other asshole. So yeah, dinner with Rick sounded so much better than the usual Friday nights.  
  
Heading back inside, Daryl beamed at another gas station turkey and cheese. It was such a shitty sandwich, though Daryl couldn’t get enough of them. It was just special, because Merle always remembered that Daryl wanted turkey and cheese and didn’t get him fucking disgusting ass ham and cheese. It was just one of the little things that showed Merle actually did love him, despite all the bullshit he continuously puts him through.  
  
"Franky quit today." Merle decided to inform after swallowing a bite of his gas station pizza slice which Daryl said tasted like shit that was shit out of a piece of shit. Merle didn’t seem to mind it though. Then again, he was partial to prison food as well, so Merle could eat mostly anything. "Was thinkin’ puttin’ in a good word for ya down at the shop."  
"So y’all can torment me at work, too?"  
"So y’all can stop lazin’ an’ mopin’ cuz that dogfucker fuckin’ fired ya. Might take a while b’fore I can say anything, Joe’s kinda pissed at me."  
"What’d’ya do?" Daryl scoffed a laugh.  
" _Allegedly_ I broke the radio by chuckin’ it at Lenny."  
"Pft. Fucker prolly had it comin’." Daryl snorted into a bite of his sandwich.  
"Ya look like a drowned rat, cut some’a that fuckin’ hair." Merle snapped suddenly, which only prompted Daryl to flip him off. Daryl always got nervous around scissors and really only cut his own hair. But lately he hasn’t had the motivation, so it’s starting to get long enough to cause a problem. Not much for him, but it seemed to get on Merle’s nerves. Which was all the more reason to keep it the way it is.   
   
 

* * *

  
   
Rick pulled up in the driveway at 5:40, and honestly was not expecting an egg to be whipped at his windshield. But there it was, oozing down the glass after the shell cracked and spattered everywhere. Gross.  
"Yer a fuckin’ child!" He heard Daryl and grinned when he saw the younger man sporting a ‘Fuck The Police’ tee. And it was a nice subtle cover up for his shoulders, since they probably were starting to scab over and get all gross looking. Not that Rick would mind, but Daryl seemed the self conscious type. Daryl slid into the passenger seat, feet up on the dash again, giving a nod for Rick to start driving. After spraying fluid and cleaning his windshield the best he could with the wipers, they were off.  
"He always chuck eggs at people’s cars?" Rick asked with an amused tone.  
"Only when he wants to be an asshole." Daryl grumbled. Merle was such a pain in the ass.  
  
Eight Dragons wasn't very fancy, but they had better Chinese food than The Tea Garden, which _was_ fancy. They ordered out and Rick ran in to grab the food, taking it back to Rick's. Daryl immediately grabbed his box of beef lo mien and flopped on the couch with one of Rick's forks, digging in. Rick, with his meal of pork fried rice, teriaki and spare ribs, sat next to him after he put on whatever movie was on in the dvd player.  
  
"This is actually pretty good." Rick was surprised through that first bite. Daryl gave a nod, having to swallow his large bite of noodles before speaking.  
"Yeah, they may not have the nicest set up, but they got some kick ass food." Kicking his feet up on the coffee table, all slouched and comfortable, Daryl scoffed when some Disney movie started playing. Moana, is what Rick said it was, and went on about how that and Frozen were Judith’s favorite movies. It started off good, and the songs were alright. Apparently How Far I’ll Go was Judith’s favorite song, but Daryl liked You’re Welcome better, mostly because he remembers when Dwayne Johnson was a wrestler, and now he’s singing in kiddie movies but people still take him seriously. It was just fucking hilarious, he made Rick rewind it at least three times over to watch the song again, laughing hysterically each time. And Rick oblidged, because he loved seeing that smile and the laughter was so good to hear, especially since his cheek was still throbbing with a bruise that Daryl had laughed at instead of apologizing for, though that was ok, because he could see Daryl’s apologetic looks out of the corner of his eye when Daryl thought he wasn’t looking.  
  
The younger man made it about halfway through the movie before he passed out, and Rick laid him down and covered him up with a blanket, closing up his food box and placed it on the coffee table to be put away when Rick was ready to get up. Only, Rick didn’t get that far either. He had begun doing some research on his laptop, mostly for events around King’s County and Atlanta for places he might want to take the kids (and possibly Daryl) and see if he could do so without going broke. He shouldn’t, but sometimes places can be expensive. An Autumn Fest was coming up, so that might be fun for either parties. Or both, now that he thought about it. But the second he closed his laptop and his eyes just to rest a moment, he was out.  
  
He wasn’t, however, expecting to be kicked. Not hard, but enough of a nudge to wake him up. He hadn’t been able to see anything, just errotic, panicked breathing is what really woke him up, hand shooting out and turning on the lamp at his side to see a sweaty, distressed Daryl, curled into himself now, trying to calm himself from a nightmare, most likely. Rick quickly scooted over to Daryl, placing a hand on his shoulder, which the younger man flinched away from and began to panic more.  
"No no no!" He screamed, but Rick pulled him into his arms, shushing him.  
"It’s Rick." He said over and over until Daryl began to calm down, Rick slowly rocking the other man in his arms. "Sh sh shhh. It’s Rick. It’s ok, darlin’. It’s ok." He leaned back slowly, Daryl still in his arms and laid down, Daryl’s head now on his chest. He removed a hand from Daryl momentarily, pulling the blanket up on the both of them, fingers raking through Daryl’s hair.  
"’s fuckin’ gay." Daryl muttered, but made no attempts to move.  
"I hope that’s ok~"  
"Guess so."  
"I was hoping we’d be able to cuddle tonight, maybe not under these circumstances, but I can’t complain."  
"This a date?"  
"Of course it was." Rick grinned.  
"’s gay too."  
"Maybe a little." Rick pressed a kiss to the top of Daryl’s head. "You have nightmares like that often?"  
Grunt.  
"I’m gonna take that as a yes. You seein’ anyone about ‘em?"  
Grunt.  
"Didn’ think so. Well, you always have a place in my arms whenever you wake up in a panic. And even if ya don’t."  
"Slow it down, cowboy." Daryl scoffed a laugh. "Ya always makin’ cuddle promises on the first date?"  
"Mhm."  
"Guess bein’ a slut runs in the family, too..."  
_"Daryl!"_ Rick choked out through a laugh, hugging the man in his arms tighter. "That ain’t nice."  
"Never said I was nice." Daryl shrugged gently.  
"Go back ta sleep, hon." Rick gave Daryl another kiss on the head, gently rubbing circles across his back, over his shirt. It didn’t take long before sleep washed over the both of them again.  
  
Rick was confused, however, when he woke up without Daryl in his arms. Immediately getting up to investigate, he found the other man in the kitchen, scrambling up some eggs and frying some bacon on the stove. He couldn’t hide the smile, fingers running through his unruly curls as he walked up behind Daryl, hands snaking around the other man’s waist.  
"Ya walk loud." And Rick snorted a laugh.  
"Oh, do I?"  
"Mhm. Coffee’s already done."  
"You’re so sweet."  
Grunt.  
"I’m serious." Rick laid his head on Daryl’s shoulder.  
"If ya plannin’ on bendin’ me over an’ fuckin’ me, there’s a hot stove _right here_ , and I don’t do that on first dates." Rick couldn’t help but laugh.  
"No, I wasn’t planning on it. Especially not after that brutal rejection." Rick pulled away and grabbed a mug, frowning. "Daryl, this is Hot Chocolate."  
_"Bite me."_ Oh. Rick sipped it anyway.  
"It’s really sweet. ‘s good."  
"There’s like 3 whole chocolate bars melted in there."  
_"Daryl! For **breakfast**?" _  
Another grunt. Well alright.  
"I’m being spoiled~" Rick set the table for the two of them, making sure to seat them next to each other, and sat down.  
  
When breakfast was ready, Daryl came over to the table and served up the food, grabbing his almost forgotten lo mien that was probably cold but Daryl was still going to fucking eat it anyway.  
"Oh gross, you wouldn’t." Rick scrunched up his nose, and Daryl took a big forkful of cold noodles and stuffed it in his mouth with a cheeky grin. Rick laughed for the billionth time since picking Daryl up, eating his own breakfast.


End file.
